Stand By Me
by Missy Jade
Summary: As the world in Pine Valley turns upside down, Bianca tries to get Maggie away from Jonathon, not realizing that he's not the real danger... [BAM, Connected to Love Story and Selfless]
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer:All My Children belongs to ABC and hopefully Agnes Nixon; I do, however, own Amy Cohen and any original characters mentioned in this fic, including Micaela Kincaide. The song below is titled "Stand By Me" and is performed by Ben E. King._

_**Stand By Me:**_

_When the night has come_

_And the land is dark_

_And the moon_

_Is the only_

_Light we'll see_

_No, I won't be afraid_

_No, I won't_

_Be afraid_

_Just as long as you stand_

_Stand by me_

She was silent, standing just inside the door, watching the woman dig through the can beneath the sink, watching Frankie stand there, hair hanging around her face as she stood, awaiting punishment. The woman, dark blonde hair tangled with sleep, her work shirt wrinkled from sleeping on the front step, dug desperately, almost whimpering in frustration.

Maggie picked at the hem of her nightshirt, wanting nothing more than to run in and comfort her twin… Frankie… she swallowed, lowered her head to peer down at the floor, trying to ignore the rising female voice… soon, she'd be screaming at them…

How could Frankie have done that? She knew better than that… she knew better than to mess with Mama's bottles… Mama always got so mad… with a screech, Gwen tossed an empty bottle to the floor, now on her knees, surrounded by scraps and papers and trash; it hit the tile floor and shattered, sending pieces of amber glass scattering to every corner of the kitchen…

Frankie jerked but didn't run; if anything, she straightened further, small form growing completely still, watching the woman lean back against the sink, shaking, head in her hands, fingers knotted in her hair, groaning… Frankie was braver than she was, stronger and Maggie…

When the bottle hit the floor, Maggie darted back, swallowing again and the fingers picking at her shirt changed to fists, gripping clothe between little fingers. A fine tremble racing through her, Maggie fought every instinct to run, but Frankie…

She watched, eyes wide, as the woman finally jumped up and her eyes found the two girls, and Maggie wanted to bolt again, tear up the stairs and duck under the bed and hide until Mama fell asleep and they could clean up her mess and make her happy in the morning. Gwen stood there, entire body shaking, before she finally brought full attention to the form before her, brave Frankie, who stared right back, fearless as she always was… always would be…

"Baby… I told you not to touch Mama's drinks… Frankie, you said you wouldn't touch my drinks anymore."

"They're bad for you, Mama."

Brave Frankie, too brave and strong for her own good… Maggie took a step back, then another, and then forced herself to stop, forced herself to stay by Frankie's side this time… this time, she wouldn't leave Frankie again…

"Those are my drinks, Frankie, those are my drinks and I paid good money for them… I work extra shifts so I can buy the good stuff!" She waved a hand, gestured in some desperate motion, the motion of an alcoholic about to break from the stress; Maggie would always remember that motion, it would come back in nightmares and in moments of pain like some insidious reminder of her bloodline. "I told you not to touch them anymore."

"No… I did it for your own good, Mama!" The face identical to Maggie's finally broke from its brave hold, finally twisted as she let out a cry of, "That stuff isn't good for you, Mama! And Maggie read it in the newspaper; she says that it'll hurt your liver!"

Anger coursed through Maggie, a sense of betrayal… _Don't say my name! Don't make her look my way, look at me…_

When Gwen finally surged forward, a blur of movement, Maggie stumbled back, her back smacking the wall and she bit back her gasp of surprise by biting her cheek, waiting for Mama to notice her… but Gwen never did, not now that she had something to focus on… grabbing a hold of the first thing she could she began shaking Frankie, "I know what's best for me, Frances! I told you to stay out of my cabinets! I told you not to waste anymore down the sink… I told you!"

She broke, finally and twisted, slamming herself through the swinging door, hating the way it creaked and ran, small bare feet pounding up the stairs and ignoring the feel of the piece of glass in the heel of her foot as she tried to block out the shriek of "I did for you, Mama!"

_So darling, darling_

_Stand by me_

_Oh, stand by me_

_Oh, stand_

_Stand by me_

_Stand by me_

He watched, silently, brown eyes watching the way Dad held her on his lap, patted her back soothingly as he studied the sweeps of color on the paper. Every few moments, he let out a soft "oh" or an awed "ah"… He turned his head, watched the female figure leaning against the sink, bottle and glass in hand.

Catching sight of him, she grinned, brown eyes lighting up in a haze of amusement… setting the glass on the side of the sink, she filled it with the liquid sloshing in the bottle, head cocked, brown hair hanging in her face as she worked not to spill any. Turning back and finding him still unmoved, she held the glass up halfway, offering a mocking salute before taking a regal sip.

The bottle was put back up on the shelf, carefully pushed back and the door was closed, and then Gail took a seat at the table, at Patrick's side, happily nursing her liqueur and simply enjoying her favorite brand… she'd caught him the last time he'd gone to take the bottle, caught him and dragged him to Patrick, wailing on about how Jonathon had wasted the good stuff.

Doing his homework had been even harder that night, harder than it usually was to make sense of what the teachers told him to do… they didn't understand… who were they to say he was bad at it, they didn't care, didn't even care to help him, stay an extra couple of minutes to help him understand…

Nobody cared…

It was bad for her, that stuff that made her mean and nasty, and not like the Moms that he saw pick up the other kids at school… wasn't she supposed to act like them? Jonathon looked down, away from her eyes and then grimaced at her laugh… "What do think, Pat? Think he's gonna stop messing with my stuff?"

His only answer was a chuckle even as he refused to shift his attention from his princess, selecting another drawing from the table and finally snapped in Jonathon's vague direction, "Go downstairs and check that the doors are locked and nobody's breaking in, would ya?"

He obeyed, not willing to get Dad upset again after Erin had got him happy and headed downstairs, shoulders hunched, contemplating how to get the liqueur out of the top cabinet… it was better for her not to drink that stuff, he knew that and if she could just stop drinking that stuff, she'd be like all the rest of the Moms at school.

_If the sky, up above_

_Should tumble and fall_

_Or the mountains should crumble_

_To the sea_

_I won't cry_

_I won't cry_

_No, I won't shed a tear_

_Just as long_

_As you stand_

_Stand by me_

She woke to the tapping, a repeated drumming of fingertips roughly against the glass of her window. It was something she recognized and she rolled out of bed, heading to the window, tugging down her nightshirt as she reached to push it up; immediately, Maggie climbed through, stepping in and backing away to let Amy shut the window back down against the rain.

"What are you doing here!"

Maggie barely answered, crossing to open Amy's bedroom door just long enough to peek out and check; shutting it, she snapped "Where's Owen, Ames?"

"Um," she hesitated, squirming under the smaller girl's stare, finally mumbling, "He's still at work."

"I want you to come with me."

For long moments, Amy stared, blue eyes huge as the words sunk in and she let out a quiet, rather pathetic "What?"

"Pack a bag," Maggie snapped, and stepped forward, closer to Amy, and there was something in her eyes that made her swallow slightly, something that reminded her of a wild animal. "Get a bag out of your closet and fill it up… we're leaving!"

"We… Maggie, stop." She rushed forward, pushed Maggie away from her closet, grapping her by the arms and turning her. "What… what is this? What the Hell… stop fighting me!" she cried, and Maggie finally stilled, letting herself be more focused. "What… wait, did something?"

"Yes." A small smile, a cocked head and it was there again, a silent something that made Amy shiver slightly. "Yes, Ames, something did happen… I have decided to leave. And I'm offering to take you with me."

"Why?"

It sounded like a stupid question, even to Amy; Maggie, however, seemed to find it absolutely hysterical, letting out a ragged, broken laugh and smacking Amy happily in the arm. "Oh, silly, because we _can_! We're big girls, both of us, and now, we're big enough to leave!"

"What about Frankie?"

There was an odd something, something that made Amy's stomach flip-flop as it passed through Maggie's eyes and the smaller girl cleared her throat, made a strange noise before smiling overly brightly at Amy and chirped, "She'll catch up with us."

"I can't."

Maggie had known that though, hadn't she? That was why there was such a desperate gleam in her gaze, why her hands were shaking so badly, why her eyes were, Amy now saw, swollen and red already. "I'm not ready to leave… not yet."

"Okay, well…" Maggie rubbed hands on her drenched jeans, cleared her throat roughly before finally perking back up, like a switch was flipped and she was once again happy. "Well, then… I'm gonna go."

Amy watched, silent, still, feeling shaky, as Maggie climbed back out; she watched, blue eyes wide as the dark shape bolted, finally fading away in the night and she wondered, numbly, if she'd ever see Maggie again.

_And darling, darling_

_Stand by me_

_Oh, stand by me_

_Oh, stand now_

_Stand by me_

_Stand by me_

The two young women were participating in their usual ritual for Friday nights. In tanks tops and shorts, they sat in front of the television, the older girl's eyes intent on the shifting figures of the television, hearing the sound effects well in the quiet of the room. Empty cartons of ice cream lay nearby, sticky.

Every few minutes, one of Maggie's long nails would catch on a strand of Bianca's hair and tugged and yet Bianca did not give a damn, not with the fact that Maggie was the wonderful, warm weight at her back, her strong legs a pressure on either side of her spine. No, Bianca barely even noticed the tugging of her hair.

With her own hair in pigtails, Maggie was, quite simply, playing with Bianca's hair, apparently searching for the "perfect do"… Bianca, once again, simply did not give a damn… not with the way Maggie's fingers brushed her scalp every few minutes, scraping the skin very lightly, but still enough to cause her heart to flutter in her chest.

She was only vaguely aware that she was supposed to laugh now and so she did… albeit a rather shaky little chuckle that didn't at all sound like Bianca Montgomery's usual laugh. She felt slightly guilty, enjoying this so much, enjoying these little touches so much. But she did, sitting there, cross-legged, she enjoyed it.

She'd never say it though, never speak those dangerous words and break her and hurt her… she'd never hurt her Maggie.

_Oh darling, darling_

_Stand by me_

_Oh, stand by me_

_Oh, stand now_

_Stand by me_

_Stand by me_

She could barely breathe, hands gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles as she sat there, concentrating on the way lights flashed by, the way water rolled off the windshield.

Babe… she'd kept quiet, she'd smiled brightly and nodded and pretended to support Bianca but this… this… Maggie shuddered, a violent ripping of movement before she calmed herself, once again focusing on pushing those things back…

The sight of Bianca in bed with that blonde bitch was slowly being folded away, pushed to the back of her mind. It always worked, pushing painful things back and made it easier… Maggie swallowed, glanced up to meet her own gaze in the mirror; her eyes were blank, empty, and she blessed, for the first time, Gwen. Who's better to teach a little girl about misery?

Calmed, finally, she slowed the car, searching for something to focus on other than how Bianca had looked like at Babe's side… and, with a slight twitch of surprise, she found it in the dark shape walking along the road, bag slung over a shoulder… Bianca would've told her not to stop…

_Bianca doesn't care…_

It was like a slap in the face and, without a further thought, she stopped the car, waiting, numbly, until the car door was opened, and the sound of driving rain intensified… a few drops hit her face and arms as he took a seat, slamming the car door with a grunt. Letting his bag drop to the floor, he glanced over at her and she stared right back.

"Thanks… you wouldn't believe how many cars just went right by me…" He laughed, a deep chuckle, reaching up to wipe water from his face and wipe it off on his already soaked jeans. "Think you can get me to the nearest gas station?"

She pulled back onto the road, increasing speed as she settled into the lull of driving… in the simple world of turning a wheel and pushing down a foot, Bianca screwing that trashy blonde didn't exist… "Do you have a name?"

_Yeah, that's good Maggie… you sound like your heart hasn't been ripped out, put in a blender with a shot of tequila and Binks hasn't pushed 'puree'… you sound completely fine…_

"Um, Jonathon… Jonathon Lavery."

Well, wasn't the world just perfect? "How about I do one better than a gas station? How about I drop you off at your brother's place?"

"What?" He stared at her, eyes wide, finally coughing nervously and mumbled, "You know my brother? How?"

"Ryan? Ryan Lavery?" His face calmed and he raised an eyebrow and she totally got that look. "No, buddy, I'm not some chick obsessed with the heir to the Cambias fortune… he's a..." _Yeah, Maggie, another bastard who's good at that emotional gutting thing… look at what he did to Kendall!_ "He's a… friend."

"You really know where he lives?" at her nod, he sighed, leaned back with a snort. "It'd be real bitch if you turn out ot be a psycho killer… but, if you're offering, I'll take you up on it."

"Good, but I'll kick you out of this car if you don't buckle your seatbelt."

"Yes, ma'am."

_Whenever you're in trouble_

_Would you stand by me_

_Oh, stand by me_

_Oh, stand now_

_Oh, stand_

_Stand by me_

* * *

_AN: Okay, if you've ever been to you might have seen me there and if you have, if you read "A Love Story" you'll know the basic idea of this one… I am, of course, a bit of masochist, which is why I am basically writing four fics even as I start another go in college… yes, exactly, I am completely nuts. Well, this whole evil fic idea began while I was seething over the baby-switch and the writers unending obsession to make Babe a hero and JR that one-dim evil guy, not to mention how Maggie was suddenly pretty much chopped liver once Babe entered Binks' sights…_

_If you've gone through my posts on the SOC board, you know my feelings on this subject, which I proudly make known on a regular basis. Anyway, while out having a few shots of tequila with a few friends, we got on the subject of how much the writing was beginning to suck… we also talked about how space aliens were in our heads but that's not the point right now._

_And so began the beginning of this mega-fic, which I split into three fics: "a love story", 'selfless" and this one "stand by me"… this is the BAM-centric fic and, if you read the other fics, you've picked up on the beginning threads of this. The premise of the original idea revolved around what was, in my mind, the worst aspects of the baby-swap._

_1) David is not Babe's father, hence, he had no part in the baby-swap, hence… well, this has more to do with "selfless" but it is important so, yeah…_

_2) Bianca continuing to support Babe… was I the only one who desperately wanted Bianca to kick some blonde ass? Was I the only one who watched her support Babe and sitting in front of the TV going … WTF! So, under this idea, the fics have the basis that Binks is continuing to let JR think his son is dead… yes, this is so horrible and so unlike Binks, but this will be dealt through so don't worry about it._

_3) Ryan was never shot. Why? Because if Ryan was shot, I'd have made sure he was dead! This will be an abuse story but not the way you might think of it. So the whole "Ryan shooting, Greenlee poisoning nonsense"… yeah, uh, didn't happen… as you can tell from the last part up there, my version of how Mags and Jon met is a bit different… ain't I a stinker?_

_There are many other things that pissed me off but they aren't really relevant to this one fic so, yeah, don't worry about it. I decided to post this here because I want to see what BAM fans think of it… if I get attacked with rotten tomatoes I'll only post it over at but I'd really love to get some feedback from BAM fans, so tell me what ya think of it, would ya? For some reason, I don't get the feeling that there are a lot of BAM fans over there… just a hunch… uh, I'm gonna head to bed and try to work the Mega-fics tentacles from my brain… been so long since I had a nice, non-AMC dream…_


	2. Chapter One

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter One_

_January, 2005, Pine Valley, Pennsylvania_

Amy Cohen, with her hair band between her teeth, swept fingers through her black hair, sweeping it back and into its usual tail; making it tight, she finally secured it with the blue band, grinning to herself as she checked how it looked in the mirror. "Hah!" she whispered triumphantly.

Stepping out of the car, she took off across the pavement, stepping brightly onto the sidewalk in front of the store, her blue eyes excited behind her glasses. Stopping in front of the store, she studied the shadowy insides of the empty place, shaking herself when she began to wonder if there were shapes moving inside.

_Maybe Micaela's right; maybe I am just an over-grown five-year old._

The thought brought a smile to her face and she picked nervously at the bottom button of her blouse, finger nails catching on the dark plastic shape. Turning from the store, she looked back at the blue car, decided that she should stop leaving her cell in the car… she was a grown woman and she was as ridiculously forgetful as a five-year old.

Sheesh, Micaela knew her too well.

Swirling her cup of coffee with a twist of her wrist, she took a sip, sighing as she checked the time; she was early, so maybe she should sit? She looked down at the sidewalk, grimaced, and decided against it, especially with her new skirt. Why not go sit in the car until she got here.

However, her concentration turned right back to the empty store at her back when she caught the dart of movement from within. Setting her coffee at her feet, she took a step closer to the wide window, peering in for a few moments before, with a snort of embarrassment, she slipped her glasses off.

_Ahh, much better…_ She concentrated, studying the lumpy shapes and the flat expanse of the counter, head tilted… and there it was again, a shape in the background. Rolling her shoulders, Amy contemplated this. Maybe the other woman had gotten here earlier?

When the door just a few feet to her left slammed open, along with a jingle of a bell, she spun to the sound, and then issued a breathless squeak of pain when her foot hit her coffee, sending a spray of hot liquid against her leg. With a savage whisper of "fuck!" she shook off her leg furiously, the clothe of her skirt rippling with the movement.

The cause of her fright looked rightfully guilty by the time Amy had calmed enough to give him full attention. Tall, needing a shave, very nice leather jacket… with both hands out in a soothing position, he quickly offered up a nervous laugh of "Whoa, Gidget, easy there… I didn't… I didn't mean to make you go all hyper."

Amy, thoroughly embarrassed by now, tried to fight down the heat rushing up her neck and into her face and wished unhappily that she'd left her hair open; it was always so easy to use the thick black tresses to hide her frequent intimidations of ripe tomatoes… she sighed, shook herself and gave him her full attention. "No, it's okay, I was the dummy who sat my coffee right by my feet… you just spooked me, that's all."

"Huh." He laughed, shook his head in amusement. "I seem to spook everybody in this town. Hopefully, it'll stop after I stop being a newbie."

"Oh, great… I'm a newbie too!" Her desperation for some ice for her leg forgotten, she looked at the stranger with more interest. Sticking one hand out, she grasped his and shook it happily, laughing, "I just got to town yesterday… and I've already been to the jail." At his arched eyebrow, she shook her head with another laugh, offering, "No, not me… I was just bailing out my boss."

"Hmm… well, you're boss sounds interesting." When she pulled back her hand, he let his hands drop into his jacket pockets and watched, brown eyes glittering with humor, as she tapped one foot against the wet cement. "So, what are you doing here, at an abandoned store?"

"Um, looking to buy it, or, at least, maybe, borrow it or…" Amy gestured, grinning, "I just want to get it so I can sell things."

"There are better abandoned shops you know."

This time it was her eyebrow that rose, and he laughed and, wow, they were both really big with the laughing today weren't they? "Isn't this one a little bit too far away from the business district?"

"Um…" She frowned, looked back at the shadowy inside and then looked back at him, asking, with a self-mocking grimace, "There's a business district?"

"Yes," he laughed and then, so fast she jumped about a foot, grabbed her wrist and hauled her right back towards her car and she followed, stumbling in her effort to keep up. As soon as they reached the blue metal, he released her. "Here, do you have a piece of paper or a notebook or something?"

"My boss does but I've got the mental capacity of a five-year old so…" She let her sentence trail off, eyes watching as he opened the car door for her. Like a perfect gentleman. "Say, do they have restaurants near this business district? Because I'm supposed to have lunch with my boss and I have no idea where to find food outside of a McDonald's."

"Yeah, I remember that feeling…" He patted his pockets, rolling his eyes and muttering as he apparently searched for paper. With a snort of disgust, he looked around, looked back at her, and cocked his head. "No paper. I've lived in Pine Valley as long as I have and I have yet to remember to take paper with me."

"Why don't you give me directions?"

"Uh… would that be okay?" At her look, he chuckled and then suddenly paused, stilling and studied her with brown eyes. "You don't even know my name yet, do you? Here," he took her hand again, shook it more gently than she had, offering, "I'm Jonathon Lavery… I don't really have a nickname though, but you can call me Jonathon."

"I'm Amy. And, since Amy is such a short name anyway, you can just call me Amy."

Grinning, he held open the door, waited until she had climbed back in behind the wheel before going around the back of her car and climbed into the passenger seat. Buckling his seatbelt immediately, he watched as she started up the car, backed out of the parking space… risking only one glance over his shoulder at the abandoned store.

* * *

"_This is kind of fun," Maggie noted, glancing over at Bianca, in her Christmas hat. She was adorable in green and red, all decked out in holiday style. The girls' presents were scattered around our out-stretched legs and Bianca was halfway through wrapping one. "I always used to hate wrapping presents."_

"_Well," Bianca laughed, batting her eyelashes in a classic Kane face, "back then you didn't have _me_ to help." _

"_Okay, _what_?"_

_Bianca grinned, no, she _leered_ at Maggie, eyebrows raised in a ridiculously sexy look. "Come on, don't tell me you haven't thought about unwrapping me on Christmas?" At Maggie's furious blush, she laughed again, throwing back her long fall of black hair. "We are so bad."_

"_No, you are bad and _you_ have corrupted me. See, I was once as innocent as a… What's an innocent animal?"_

"_Baby chicken."_

_Maggie nodded, grinning." Yeah, right, a baby chicken. Before you got your hands on me, I was like a newborn chick, all innocent and adorable and so very full of non-guiltiness!"_

_Bianca blinked once, then twice. "Full of 'non-guiltiness'? Is that even a word?"_

"_Of course it is." She finished wrapping the box of ducky toys for Miranda, set it aside and shifted full attention to the taller girl. "See, you're like… a female David."_

"_Now, I'm a devious doctor with a heart of gold toward all blonde Southern Belles and women called Greenlee or Kane women?" She looked shocked, eyes even wider than usual. "I mean, is that a compliment or an insult?"_

"_You corrupted me. Once upon a time, all I did was read books and write things. Now, I'm running around Pine Valley, spending half my time chasing you around our place to jump your bones. This is not what good girls do."_

_Bianca's grin was pure evil as she leaned over, dark eyes getting, somehow, even deeper than usual. "Then I'm very happy I got my hands on you."_

_Ooh, double-speak at it's best, people. Maggie smiled slightly when Bianca reached out to brush hair from her face. "So you like me, what, bad?"_

"_Hmm, yeah, I think so," she murmured before kissing her, cradling her face… _

The jolt of a weight against the table beneath her jolted Maggie out of her Bianca-as-Miss Clause fantasy; hoping nobody noticed her blush, she quickly took her soda, thanking the waitress and watching, embarrassed, as the waitress sauntered away. Looking down, she found to her dismay that there a small puddle of drool on her textbook.

Quickly wiping it up with a napkin, she took a sip of her Coke… and immediately choked it out, gagging on the taste of Diet Coke. Her Bianca fantasy was over, her textbook was drool-y and, damn it, she didn't want Diet Coke! Leaving everything at her table, she stomped forward to the counter, fully intending to get what she wanted.

Halfway there, the door swung open and she turned partly at the sound of Jonathon's laughter… there he was, in his usual jeans and jacket, and, hey, he was laughing, which was a good thing as far as Maggie was concerned. Wait, who was he holding the door open for? She leaned forward, putting her weight onto her toes as she tried to give herself an extra inch or two.

Holy shit… She was taller and no longer in her old clothes that Owen hated buying and her hair was longer, but, it was Amy. It was Amy the Aimless from her big grin and sparkling eyes to the way she swung her bag happily from her fingers. Maggie had a strange reaction.

If someone had told her that Amy would be showing up in Pine Valley today, she would have been okay with it, would have probably not thought too much of it. Yet, her reaction now… Maggie's heart, calming after it's bout of Bianca-itis kicked right back up, a steady pounding against her chest.

Amy… she shouldn't be this excited about someone she hadn't seen in years… they'd lost contact… yet, right now, the sight of Amy chatting it up with her boyfriend was the happiest thing she'd experienced in what felt like years… Amy, despite everything and all the time, she was a friend…

Somehow, the other girl heard the squeak of breathless excitement even across the restaurant and, her reaction was priceless. Shoving her bag into Jonathon's chest, she took off like a living torpedo, slamming into Maggie and locking both arms around the smaller woman.

Maggie closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of caring in strong arms and the breath against her neck… Amy laughed, bouncing on her heels, squealing in excitement… Amy still cared, even after all this time… Maggie, groaning, hugged her right back, ignoring the annoyed waitress who had gotten knocked out of the way by the hyper-active little pagan.

Maggie desperately prayed that Amy would be staying.

* * *

Only in Pine Valley could two women reunite after, what, years? Shaking his head at the sight of the two women sitting at the table, chattering, he simply enjoyed the image of Maggie laughing like she should… but, with a sigh, Jonathon turned away, stepping out into the morning air and dug his phone from the pocket, quickly punching in the numbers.

And, like always, all he got was the message, "Hey, this is Ryan Lavery. I'm not around right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to ya as soon as I can, okay?"

He snapped the cell shut, shoving it into his pocket, shaking his head in irritation, and, finally, he slammed his open hand into the brick at his side… the flash of pain cleared some of the haze of his anger away and, with the cacophony of his fears cleared, he let his eyes wander.

He was an adult, he could handle this, he could take care of all of this… rubbing his aching hand, he studied the gum stuck to the sidewalk, decided somebody needed to pick it up… he crouched, fingernails catching onto the sticky, dirty pink mess… he picked at it, tore it away and rolled it up, rolled the mess between fingers before straightening and tossing it into the bushes at his side.

His mind was quiet and, for a long moment, he stood silent, considering going to Fusion, telling Rye… no, he was an adult, he could handle this, deal with this like an adult… he was an adult. He had to go back anyway, had to get his car… he turned, headed back in to tell Mags that he would be gone the rest of the day and would be home later.

* * *

She stared down at the black and white image, fingers tracing the words that ran across the page of straight lines… "Chandler Baby Memorial"… she looked up, her dark eyes settling on the phone, waiting for her to type in JR's number. She turned from the paper, turned away from the phone, wrapping her arms around herself as she forced her mind away from what she should be doing.

Miranda… with Mom and Uncle Jack, happily visiting with her auntie Lily and uncle Reggie. Bianca sighed, ran fingers through her hair and, suddenly, spun, stalking back to the phone and grabbing it up, punching in numbers… "Hi, this is Maggie Stone, but, as you can tell, I'm not around so, leave a message would ya?"

Bianca hung up; flinging the phone down, it hit the floor, bouncing to land beside the couch. Shaking, attempting to block voices from her head, she grabbed her coat and fled her place, intending to find something to block all of this out…

* * *

_AN: Read and review, people! This belongs with my strange trilogy that includes "Love Story" and "Selfless" and I hope you enjoy it!_


	3. Chapter Two

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Two_

"_Want a soda?"_

_The girl on the bottom step turned, looked up with a blink before, sighing, she murmured "no" quietly. The shake of her head made black hair ripple and, hopping down the remaining the two steps, Maggie settled down at Amy's side, putting the other can by her side before cracking hers open. The hiss of air was louder than it should have been in the silent night air, and, beside Maggie, the other girl flinched slightly._

"_What's the matter with you?"_

_A shrug, another ripple of that perfect black hair and Maggie took a sip of her soda, enjoying the harsh taste of way too much caffeine and carbonation._

"_I've just been thinking."_

"_No, you've been moping… I know the look of the Aimless Mope."_

_Amy smiled slightly, sighing quietly and, moving slightly, she bent her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her knees. "I should hate that name, shouldn't I?"_

"_Amy? Naw, it's a well loved name… look at how many times you hear people call Amy in the mall. And, of course, every time you look over and go 'what!' at the top of your lungs."_

"_I am such a dork, aren't I?"_

"_Yeah," Maggie grinned, took a swallow and choked the smallest bit, "but you're an extremely lovable dork, so you're good."_

"_Good to know."_

"_Here," Maggie instructed, pushing the other soda over a bit; rolling her eyes and stretching out her legs, Amy obeyed the unspoken order, popping the tab with a nail. "so, really, Ames, what's with this sudden drop in the usual Amy Cohen Excited-meter?"_

"_What about that name, Mags?"_

"_Frankie came up with the name Mags."_

"_Now who's being a dork?"_

"_If you want to be pissy, than I guess a pissy girl would hate the name 'Aimless'… are you pissy?"_

"_Maybe… hey, what if I decide to be pissy? That's allowed right?"_

"_But you're not pissy."_

"_What if I want to be though?"_

_Maggie finally gave in to her laughter and, of course, it went badly; things that carbonated should not be pushed out of the nose at the velocity of one of Frankie's spitballs… just wasn't meant to be pleasant probably. Coughing, annoyed at the broad grin on her friend's face, she wiped her face, snorting painfully._

"_Okay, Cohen, let's be direct."_

"_okey-dokey."_

"_Stop that… anyway, I forbid you to be pissy."_

"_Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa… you forbid me?"_

_Maggie just grinned, clear brown eyes staring out at the distance, at where hints of fog were gathering in the late night air. "What kind of shit did Owen pull this time, Ames?"_

_Long seconds of silence, time passing as clouds overhead drifted, shifted the shadows across them; in the background, Maggie heard the faint honk of some car and a screech of tires, but, thankfully, she heard no impact… although she heard a few enraged screams in the distance._

"_I came home and I must have doesn't something really stupid today."_

"_Jesus Christ, did he…?"_

"_Yep, he locked me out of the house for the night."_

"_That bastard."_

"_Yeah, Mags, like you haven't been through the same shit, let's see, how many times a month?"_

"_Speaking of Gwen… guess who's gone for the week-end?"_

"_You're kidding me."_

"_Nope."_

"_If that's not fate, what is, huh?"_

_Maggie laughed, drained the last of the can and, with another grin at her friend, folded it half-way; twisting partly, she met Amy's amused gaze, cocking her head. "What, Aimless?"_

"_You're going to recycle that, right?"_

_She just laughed and, when Amy got a slightly huffy look, she held up one hand in a peace-making motion. "I solemnly swear that one day this shall be another can! Or, in more simple terms, I shall recycle this danger to the Mother Earth."_

"_Good." Handing over her own empty can with a cheeky smile, she reached up and brushed hair from her face, chirping, "Don't forget that one, oh protector of Mother Earth."_

"_And here I thought you were a good dork."_

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah… where's Frankie?"_

"_Gone… she ran off a couple days ago and I finally got a call this morning."_

"_How considerate of her," Amy murmured, leaning back and setting elbows on the step behind her. "And how high was she this time?"_

"_Amy…" Her voice, soft and quiet, made Amy grimace and she reached out, taking the hand beside her; squeezing it once warmly, she smiled apologetically at her friend._

"_That's me for you. Got uncle Owen's temper huh? I didn't… I didn't mean it like that."_

"_Yeah. Yeah, I know."_

_Amy tugged her closer with the hand she held, and Maggie went along with the movement, scooting over to the adorable dork's side with a laugh. But, despite her best attempts to joke, there was that familiar brittle quality to the sound and Amy squeezed her hand more tightly, letting their fingers lace._

"_I'm afraid for her."_

"_Yeah. Yeah, I know."_

_More silence between the two, and they shared that warmth that only lucky people ever get to experience, enjoying the few moments of simplicity the two always gave each other. And, then, Maggie perked up, pushing all that pain away like she usually did and Amy wished it was that easy for her. "So, we get an old-fashioned slumber party, huh?"_

_Amy laughed, and, when Maggie stood, she tugged her up with her, grinning at the groan that came from the taller girl at the kinks in her legs. "Come along, my little guest. Let's go find ourselves some kind of sugar in this shack huh?"_

"_I brought something actually."_

"_Ah, going to bribe me, huh?"_

"_Would I ever have to bribe you?"_

"_Never." She wrapped an arm around a waist, kissed her playfully on the cheek and laughed again. "Anyway, what kind of sugar did you bring?"_

"_Sugary things."_

"_Ah… the best kind."_

_Deciding to ignore why they were completely alone, the two girls sauntered up the stairs and into Maggie's house, giggling about why white chocolate was so much better than milk and about how dark chocolate kicked both their asses._

* * *

Maggie wasn't at the apartment she shared with Jonathon. Bianca banged on the door for a good five minutes before finally realizing that Maggie wasn't just ignoring her. With her hand throbbing slightly, she leaned against the door and tried Maggie's cell again; yet again, just a message.

Standing there, cell gripped in one white-knuckled hand, she stared down at the floor without seeing it. She needed Maggie… she needed to talk to Maggie… Maggie would help her with this, help her decide what to do… she needed Maggie…

She turned away from the door bitterly, trying to leash her growing desperation. Stepping into the elevator, she sorted through her mind, attempting to think of any place that Maggie would be. Okay, fine, how about Jonathon? He always knew where she was and, hey, maybe for once that would pay off.

Fate, however, didn't seem to be with her today for, once again, all she got was a machine; a voice mail, to be more descriptive. Was it "ignore-Bianca" day or something? Kendall was off doing God knows what and refused to even acknowledge Bianca's presence and, of course, her mother's focus was completely latched onto her new show.

Erica Kane was a fine mother but god forbid one of her daughters come between her and her show!

Still, she found herself leaving Jonathon a message, in some pathetic hope that he just might help her find Maggie. Yeah, like he really wanted her and Maggie to even be in the same room together. Bianca saw the way he looked at her when she stood too close to Maggie, when Bianca's hand settled on Maggie's.

Jonathon hated her and, despite his clear ability to hide emotions, that hate shown right through to Bianca from his brown eyes. He looked down on her, that gaze glittering with disgust and, oh yeah, quite a bit of raw jealousy. But, then he'd look at Maggie and, just like that, his gaze would calm, the tempest he felt towards Bianca stilling into perfect love for Maggie.

Bianca did not like Jonathon. And, what was worse, she didn't know if it was her own jealousy that Jonathon got to have the one thing Bianca would kill for or, if, just maybe, he really was dangerous.

* * *

The call to Micaela completed, Amy set her phone on the table and, grinning, leaned back in the booth, not even minding the annoying squeaking of her skirt against the vinyl; she stretched arms up over her head, stretching as she waited, and, before she could stop herself, the warmth in the corner she had stolen from Maggie had dragged a yawn from her.

"Am I boring you so much?"

She grinned up at the other girl, chirping, "A girl shouldn't have to wait this long for service."

Maggie just laughed and set down the tray of food, a mingle of everything someone could possibly make with hot dogs, ground beef, massive amounts of cheese and enough chili to choke a donkey. And, boy, for Amy, it smelled good; as soon as she caught the scent her mouth started watering.

"Jeez, I forgot how easy it was to make Amy Cohen drool."

Amy's reply, muffled by the mega-mouthful of chili-cheese fries, reminded her, once again, how nice it was to get the chance to squish herself into a seat beside her. Handing over a pile of napkins, she giggled, "Here, monkey-girl, wipe your mouth. And then I can interrogate you about the last years."

Amy obeyed, being sweet enough to blush a bright red. Clearing her throat, she leaned away long enough to let Maggie chose herself a plate filled with a massive cheeseburger, fries and a Coke. "You must love this place… you always were obsessed with cheese and chili. You must get them half their weekly earnings."

"Come on, talk between bites. I thought you were headed for Texas?"

"I did get to Texas… I just now moved away from it." Calmer after the first few gulps of food, she stabbed a few fries, stripped them off her fork with her teeth and chewed thoughtfully.

"All this time around people who ride those big monsters and go 'yee-haw' all day? Sheesh… masochist anyone?"

Amy grinned cheekily, wriggling fine black brows at Maggie. "Just because you're afraid of horses doesn't mean I am."

"I am not afraid of hoses… I just, um, had a bad experience, okay?"

"Honestly, I loved Texas… plus, met my best boss ever there, too!"

"Yeah, that Michelle chick… you still work for her?"

"Uh, her name is Micaela and, yes, I do still work for her."

"You're a secretary, right?"

Now she was annoyed. Maggie quickly dipped her head to hide her grin from Amy, who let out a huff of annoyance at being called that word she hated so much. "I am not a secretary, Stone. I am an assistant."

She took a bite of her burger, chewed for a few moments before swallowing happily. "Fine, secretary, what are you doing in Pine Valley, anyway?"

"Micaela's decided to put her Foundation in this town. Hence, a big move… although now, hey, I like it here!"

"Glad to know I'm so loved."

"Yeah… so… who's the hunk who gave me directions here? I mean, I get the name and those eyes, but, you know, what does he do? Does he sing or dance or… do something equally mockable?"

Maggie took a sip of her Coke, smoothing her hands down on her jeans, wiping off the condensation from the cup with a slightly amused laugh. "Uh, no, Amy, he is not exactly 'mockable'… what's that snort for, Snorty?"

"It's, just… you just used air quotes."

"Yeah, this town steals all your brain cells. Anyway, he works with his brother, or, well, did. He's currently between jobs, but, you know, he's… he's looking. What, are you interested?"

Amy didn't even rise to the bite, laughing it off with a chirp of, "I don't like boys."

That was Amy for you, fearless and brave and so very, very honest with people. "Yeah… you don't like boys… how could I have forgotten about that?"

She hadn't forgotten about that and Amy knew it; she took another bite of yummy, yummy fries, and then a sip of her Coke and, turning to study Maggie with a suggestive leer, she asked, "So, does he have a sister?"

* * *

Bianca was in a rather foul mood when she finally stomped out of her car and towards the restaurant, bag smacking her leg with each angry stride. Where the hell had Maggie gone! What, had she dropped off the edge of the Earth? Stopping in front of the door, she paused to ease her own annoyance, breathing in and out carefully for a few minutes and trying to relax her shoulders and back.

With one last deep breath, she pushed open the door, stepping in lightly and letting the door slide shut behind her. Okay, she'd get a bite here and then head off to continue her great Maggie Search. Stalking over to the counter, she opened her bag… and heard a peel of laughter from behind her.

She knew that laughter, even if it had been ages since she'd actually heard it.

Bianca spun, eyes growing wide, trying to pierce the shadowy corner… just barely, she could see the shape and when it shifted, she caught a flash of dark blonde hair… Maggie!

Ignoring the huff from the waitress behind her, she took off, thoroughly intending to tell Maggie to never ever do that vanishing thing ever again, right after she talked about what she had to do.

Two steps away from the table, she finally caught the other shape. Female, slim, bright smile… and she was laughing… she was laughing… with Maggie… her Maggie… why was somebody sitting like that with her Maggie… that wasn't Jonathon…

There are times when a person, no matter how amazingly civilized, will revert back to their natural primitive instincts. This is what happened right now. Very softly, low in her throat, she made a noise that sounded disturbingly like a growl. She had to sit around and watch Jonathon paw on Maggie like one of those dogs that run around after you, humping your legs… but this!

She spun back, deciding to go home… she didn't want to see this… what, was Jonboy going to pop up now? Would she be forced to watch a freaking threesome! She managed one step, two steps, then three before an excited yell of "B!' met her ears. She turned back, face expressionless and went, very softly, "hmm?"

"Come here! Meet my best friend Amy!"

* * *

_AN:I want reviews people! Anybody who read sthis fic... it just takes a second, okay! Review! Simply "yay" you like it or "nay" you don't like it! Thank you!_


	4. Chapter Three

_AN: My computer has been acting schitzo... hence, there might be quite a few gramatical errors... I don't know what I did to offend my new computer but I'll woo her back, don't worry!_

**Stand By Me**

_Chapter Three_

Amy Cohen had thought that eighteen years with the Drunken Bastard formally known as Owen Cohen had left her with an understanding of a tense situation; but now, sitting in the corner, staring back at the young woman who stood there, she truly understood the meaning of "tense".

A bright, extremely chipper smile that held no warmth and big dark eyes that held an equal amount of warmth… Amy found herself besieged by a disturbingly perfect blank gaze and, if she hadn't grown up beside Maggie, she probably would turn tail and run right now. This chick was just… plain… _scary_.

Maggie however, seemed immune to the Gaze of Death… she continued to babble on… wait, no… "Stop that!" Amy shrieked, throwing out a hand and grabbing Maggie's arm firmly. "Stop that! That's the equivalent of a mom showing pictures of me naked!" She looked back at the young woman—_what kind of girl went by the name of B?_— and caught her reaction to Maggie's next giggled words.

"Aw, Ames, come on… you look so cute naked!"

Never had Amy been the victim of such a gaze… she half-expected her hair to burst into flames by the force of the careful emotionless quality. No one person can look that utterly blank… unless they want to kill you, Amy.

This throwaway thought, something that suddenly popped into her head, caused an immediate reaction. Her stomach, loaded up with more junk food than could be digested, dropped and tightened in the same curious feeling; luckily, after a few calm breaths with her eyes away from that utterly fierce gaze, she found herself feeling almost like herself.

Almost… "Bianca, we still have some food… take a seat and I can go get you an extra drink? I have more embarrassing stories of Aimless here."

Ah, her name was Bianca… wait, Bianca… Bianca Montgomery… oh… whoa… that Bianca…

All appetite now completely gone, she pushed her plate away, deciding not to test her stomach any more today. When she looked up, Bianca was now shifting a strangely, psychotically chipper look to Maggie and saying, "Actually, I have plans for today… you know what? I have a few minutes to spare for my best friend. And I just came in to pick up a plate of nachos… which you clearly have some of. So this is…?"

"Oh… Bianca, meet Amy Cohen; Amy, I want you to meet Bianca Montgomery." When Bianca very calmly held out an open hand, Amy had a very deep desperation to simply sneeze in her hand for an excuse. Yeah, not all that polite, and certainly not hygienic, but it always worked now didn't it? Yet, Amy took the offered hand and felt a flood of relief when the hold she encountered was firm but not tight enough to remove any important parts.

Amy didn't even raise her eyes from the table until Bianca had eased into her seat, and asked, "How long have you two known each other?" Okay, either Maggie has gone blind since Amy had last seen her or, somehow, this chick was able to hide things from her. Plus, there was a kind of lilt there that piqued Amy's attention... maybe it was her imagination?

"Oh, well, we met when Amy moved in next door; her mom died and she moved in with her uncle Owen. We became pretty inseparable, Binks."

Bianca nodded, her nachos untouched, except for the two that Maggie had swiped as she had talked. Her hands folded in her lap, she smiled at Amy, "This means of course that you get to share some of the Sacred Stone Secrets now, right." Maggie snorted but the brunette kept on going. "I mean, so much of her life before Pine Valley is still a mystery to those who love her. I'd love to know any embarrassing stories about my best friend."

There was that weird lilt again. A slight waver in the words that made Amy frown in contemplation. Bianca didn't notice the frown because her eyes were still locked on Maggie; Maggie didn't see either look because she was happily pigging out. Completely ignorant of the strange things going on in the heads of her two best friends.

Which was why she was so baffled when she looked up to find the two brunettes peering at each other sideways, blue eyes and deep, deep brown locked together in some weird look. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she studied the two girls who had her heart, one eyebrow raised in slight amusement when she realized what was going on.

Jealousy. The thought sank in, and, despite the strangeness of the idea, there was something about it that made her grin. What did she think, that years of devotion and friendship and talks and shared secrets would just vanish? Jealousy. No, friendship like this never just vanished.

"You don't have to be jealous, you know?"

Her words, when they sank in, caused both woman to look over at her in confusion and then they quickly rushed to explain that that wasn't the point. It was an amusing sight... or would have been if she could have understood anything over the cacophony. She held up her hands, and then shook them for extra emphasis, just to get both females silent. "Do you have any idea of silly this makes you look?"

Both women continued to eye her, shooting each other a clear look of bafflement before turning glances back to Maggie; the thought exchanged was simple. They had no idea who she was talking about yet. And, while Amy wasn't exactly freaking out about losing a few hours of catching up with Mags, she was getting defensive. After all, Bianca had started looking at her like she was some kind of bug as soon as she'd appeared at the table.

"Things have been really screwy lately but, you know, I feel like we can really get our feet back now... I feel like this is a whole new beginning for us."

Another exchange of thought, another shared look of confusion and then Maggie turned in her seat, giving her complete and utter attention, not to the shocked into silence Bianca but to the wide-eyed Amy. "You have no reason to be jealous of Bianca."

"Uh?" The sound, made by the brunette who was suddenly completely out of the loop, was a quiet noise was sudden shock and, while Maggie didn't even seem to pick it up, Amy heard it, clear as day.

"I know that things really sucked, especially right before I left and, how, every time you tried to get us together for a lunch or something I basically bolted but, look, when you walked in here, I realized something. I missed you... I've really needed a friend right now, you know and, now, I'm so lucky that one has come back into my life. I really want to do some things here, I want to show you around town and maybe, help you find that store you want to open."

Okay, that got Amy's attention; shifting her sight from the stricken young woman across from them, she beamed at Maggie. "Really?"

"Oh, really, there are so many business people in this town. I have no doubt that the Crescent will be built in less than a month. There's be a hundred little brooms parked out front and, you know what, you'll make Salem look like a non-witchy town." Amy snorted at that and Maggie grinned right back. "And, yes, Ames, that is a hint for what you're thinking about."

"I have to go."

"Huh?" Maggie looked away from Amy, eyebrows raising in question, watching as, in a single heartbeat, Bianca was off her seat, purse in hand and stood there, ready to leave with just a few steps. "Um... you didn't even have any nachos."

"No, I just remembered a prior engagement and I really have to go and meet with this... person. It's a... it's a big appointment and I have to be there... now."

"Oh. Well, here, you can take something with you. It'll only take a few minutes to go get a doggy bag."

"No! No, I mean... I really need to go, like, now, you know?" The stare she gave to Maggie was intense and, with a sigh, the blonde gave in to the order... although not without a parting gift. Before Bianca knew what hit her, Maggie was on her feet and her arms were locked around her.

Usually, Bianca would use a hug to steal a moment or two of Maggie's scent, of the mingling of her lotion and shampoo and any other of those sometimes strange scents that followed her... once, she could have sworn she smelled like sandalwood. Now, though, something was off, something that made Bianca wrinkle her noise and breath out the scent quickly. She must have hugged that girl. That was the answer to the question of why there was some other smell there.

She pulled away, giving Maggie a hurried kiss on the cheek before tearing out of the restaurant and letting the door slam behind her. Maggie simply took a seat back with Amy, chirping, "So, when's your birthday again? I need to start shopping to catch up for lost time."

* * *

Bianca Montgomery had spent the last three months basically watching Maggie—her Maggie—make out with Jonathon Lavery on every surface in Pine Valley. It had become a kind of curse. It was like, no matter what she did, boom, there was Maggie and Jonathon, making out like psychotic bunnies.

She had been forced to watch this, for months and say absolutely nothing. She understood the rules of this little dance that she and Maggie were on; she'd passed Maggie up for a long-distance relationship with Lena and, well, God knows, Maggie had a right to have someone who could give her what she needed.

But this? This hurt Bianca in some way that Maggie's out-right relationship with Jonathon didn't. Sitting in her car, staring out her windshield, she struggled for the understanding of what it was. And then, like a blow to her head, it hit her full-force. Amy had a past with Maggie… she had years of time that Bianca didn't, an entire life before Pine Valley… before her.

They shared memories… they shared tears and laughter and probably slumber parties and most likely all kinds of things that her and Maggie hadn't had. They hadn't seen each other in years and, instantly, Maggie had latched right on, without a single thought. Bianca had learned, the hard way, that Maggie was an intensely cautious person when it came to her heart.

Bianca had finally found herself blessed enough to have a small part of that, even if the hold was strenuous these days. Amy, after all these years, still had a piece of that heart… and Bianca was left on the outside, trying to look in. And, Bianca decided as she started the ignition, this new feeling as an outsider feeling really, really sucked.

* * *

They had decided to split the tab and, standing out front the restaurant, Amy set Maggie's cell number into her own phone, marking it as simply MAGS. "I'm almost afraid to get in the car and drive away." Maggie laughed, sliding the strap of her bag across her chest before letting her hands drop.

"Nothing to be worried about, Ames. I meant what I said in there, and I mean to keep this promise. I missed you so much."

"I know… I missed you too." she could feel herself smiling, could feel her grin on her face and the warmth in her stomach and chest. "And, you know, I didn't even realize how much." Maggie laughed, watched her for a few minutes and then, in a sudden surge of movement, she locked her arms once again around Amy.

It was a wonderful feeling... warmth and caring that Maggie so desperately needed. And Amy knew it, she knew Maggie and she knew the look of desperation in her eyes. Any hesitation she had about her current plan faded away in a simple decision.

The operation was a go.

* * *

For long moments, he stood at the door, staring down at the phone and considering calling her back. No, she'd call him back... she always, always did.

Sighing, deciding to stop worrying--what good did it do? What good did freaking yourself out ever do?--he opened the door to the apartment and stepped in, closing the door behind him as silently as he could.

The apartment was silent and dark and, immediately, he went in and checked Maggie... out cold, curled up on the bed. He frowned at the photos spread around her form, and, in the soft light of the bedside lamp, he studied a few.

The past was a dangerous and painful thing for them and, they had decided, as an unspoken decision, that thier past was not something to speak of. Too many things in those histories that were too raw and too painful.

Photos, of two girls, one black-haired and one blonde... varying ages... and, every so often, he caught a glimpse of a second face, caught a glance of a face identical to this young Maggie.

He picked one up, held it to the light and studied the way they stood together, and it struck a painful cord for him. He had few pictures. Most of them had been destroyed in the fire he had set years ago... most soaked through with kerosene and lit afire with a single match.

He remembered the way the fire had raged, tearing through detergents and soaps, ripping into washers and dryers and then rising up into the home above, the dark place of nightmares he'd been locked in for so long.

What photos remained lay hidden in his corner of the apartment, grainy images of him and Erin, their growth through the years... Erin's perfect fall of red hair, even in the hazy pictures, shone through like liquid fire.

He laid the photo back down, shut off the light and left her to sleep; in the kitchen, he found the bottle of liquor in the top cabinet, pulle it down thankfully. It was like some fucking joke, him reaching up into the cabinet like Mom used to; wasn't he usually the one dumping it out?

The first heavy shot made him grunt, burned his throat as it went down and he took another, groaning, thankful for the way it immediately hazed the world around him.

Good... wonderful... he took yet another shot, leaving the kitchen and dropping onto the couch in the living room. This would be his night. He would sit on the couch, drinking before, with a grimace he would fall asleep on the couch just before dawn.

And he dreamed of fire racing through the Lavery household the night he finally snapped.

_

* * *

Nova Scotia..._

Balancing the paper bag with the mail between her teeth, she fought the lock with the key, a deadly head on fight that ended with her third full attack; the key went in and, with a muffled "Hah!" she managed to turn the knob and kick open the door. The bag was dropped to the couch, the mail dropped beside it and, sighing, she went back and got the keys; the door was shut and locked, and the keys hung from the lock.

The contents of the bag—eggs, milk, cereal, broccoli, more than enough cheese to feed a small army of rats for three or four months—were loaded into the fridge. When she had a Coke out of the fridge and opened, she shrugged off her jacket, folded it over a chair and, sipping her soda, she headed out of her kitchen and back into her living Room.

She took a seat on her couch, lifting her feet to the table in front of her; on the table beside her couch, the light on her phone flashed a steady red light. She was a busy young woman and, with a tired grimace, she reached out and pushed the button on top.

A long beep... a silence and then Irene's voice filled the room. "Hey, look, it's Irene and this is about Hank. He says the deal looks like it'll get it done. You were right... but then, you're always right, huh? Anyway, call me back, I got some big info on the move itself."

_Delete that... _she deleted it, sighing at the effort of reaching just a little bit after running around all fucking day. The next message, from Ken, was his typical rant and rave, and a few seconds of his cheap attempts to get in her pants... bastard...

She leaned her head back, almost regretting the decision to start the messages... a sip of Coke, a grimace and she ran fingers through red hair, trying to clear away the growing migraine. Yes, caffiene was bad, but, come on, she needed caffeine.

And then his voice was there, a tentative sound that she always knew... the voice of someone approaching someone more powerful than himself... approaching her. "Erin?"

_"No... Daddy... Jonathon didn't leave the stuff out. I did... Daddy... Jonathon didn't do anything... he didn't do anything wrong."_

Setting the Coke down on the table, she twisted, staring at the phone and her eyes widened in instant alertness. Oh shit...

"Erin... I really want to talk to you. I mean, um, we need to talk. I need you to call me back as soon as possible. It's really important okay... and, just make sure you take care of yourself, ok? I mean... watch your back because-"

For long moments, she waited, and suddenly realized that he wasn't going to say something else... that the message was over. She was shaking, literally, and felt suddenly chilled.

_"Daddy... please... stay with me, don't go up, he's... he's doing his homework... he's busy... Daddy, no! Stay with me... please, Daddy!"_

And then she exploded up in movement, a blur of jeans and a tanktop, red hair lifting off her shoulders as she checked the front door; she checked the back door and then, tearing up the stairs, she checked all the windows.

_Oh shit... _Coming back downstairs, she moved through the house, clicking off lights, checking doors and windows again and, all work forgotten, headed back upstairs with her cell phone.

Maybe she was panicking too soon, maybe she was coward... but, hey, didn't cowards stay relatively safe? She locked herself in her bedroom, closing the curtains and setting the phone before her as she headed to the closet.

_"Daddy, please don't go after Jon! Please! He's been so good... I left those toys out, please don't go up... please Daddy!"_

Opening it, she stood on her toes, hands searching and, with an explosive sigh of relief, she closed fingers around the handle. Falling back, she got a good hold on it, and the weight was an instant comfort.

The claw hammer was the second of a set, and the other lay under the front seat of her car, ready for her to grab at a moments notice. This one, hidden in her closet, had spent many a night under her pillow, the handle brushing her fingertips.

Tonight would be one such night.

* * *

_AN: Please review! Thank you!_


	5. Chapter Four

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Four_

_"Ryan... you can't leave... not now... not yet..."_

_The older boy paused in his work, looking down silently and, finally, looked over with shockingly blue eyes. His hands, on the bag, stilled very suddenly, a hesitation on his part. There was silence in the night air around them and then, swallowing, he spoke in a breathless whisper. "I can't stay here any more. I can't do it. I just can't, Hockett. I'm sorry but... I have to leave."_

_"You have to take us with you. Me and Erin."_

_"I can't." Ignoring the flash of harsh hurt in those deep brown eyes, he twisted away, headed to the jacket laying nearby. "I can't breath any more here, okay? I have to get out of here. I can't stay here anymore."_

_"But what about us? I mean... Braden's gone... we can go with you, right?" Desperation. Helplessness. Absolute and utter terror that shone from his eyes with painful, raw clarity. Too much for his brother, who's voice, when it returned, was rough with emotion, a ragged edge of anguish._

_"Hockett... you're a big boy now."_

_"No... I'm... I'm not strong enough. I'm not brave like you and strong and... I'm not big enough. I can't protect Erin, Rye."_

_His movements, slow and careful, were restarted. He laid the last pair of jeans in the bag, zipped it closed in his deliberate movements. He pulled on his jacket and finally looked around at the nine-year old. "Look, you are extremely brave, okay? You and Erin? You two... you two will look out for each other... protect each other... and, one day, I'll come back for you."_

_"Really?"_

_"Yes." He nodded, finding his heart easing at the sudden light in the brown eyes. "Yes... I'll come back and I'll get you and Erin out of here and we'll... you and me? We will take over, okay? We will, just... we'll get a wonderful life away from Dad and Mom and all the stench... and Erin will grow up happy and healthy and, one day, we'll walk her down the aisle."_

_It was absurd, that a simple lie like that could so easily soothe a child that terrified. It wasn't a lie back then, though; he'd planned it all out, but every time, at the last second, he turn back around. It was absurd tha the thought of walking little Erin down the aisle could inspire such excitement. He was only nine and that his big dream... walking Erin down the fucking aisle. What a fucking world._

_"You'll come back."_

_"Yes." He reached out, hesitated and finally dropped his hand with a sigh. "Yes, Jonathon... I will come back."_

_"Do you promise?"_

_It wasn't a lie back then. It wasn't. But, sadly, as months stretched into years, it became one... one long awful lie that never ended, never stopped, a lie that preyed on his broken mind in the stillness of the night or when his mind was loosened by a booze-soaked mind... now, years later, he had come to the painful decision that Ryan had just lied._

* * *

She ended up spending a good ten minutes in her car, checking her hair over and over again. Finally, though, Maggie forced herself to finish her coffee and pick up the bag from the passenger seat and climbed out of the front seat, smoothing a hand down her denim-clad thigh and trying to ignore the growing pressure in the front of her skull.

She headed toward Bianca's place, marching forward and fighting the shaking in her hands. Reaching the door, she halted, hesitating, before, with a sigh, she knocked as quickly as possible, a sharp rapping of her knuckles. She heard movement from within, a shuffle of something heavy.

The door, opening, revealed an extremely excited Bianca, large dark eyes alight with giddiness. Stepping back, she allowed her to slip in, closing the door behind Maggie and slowly turned to observe the smaller woman, who was gazing around the apartment with an inquiring rise of her eyebrows. "Um... where's the Munchkin?"

"Miranda? Oh... she's been kidnapped by her grandma and great uncle... they have yet to return here to my care."

A frown, and her eyebrow rose higher into her blonde hairline. "Oh... do they realize that it's not even noon yet?"

She laughed, darted past Maggie with a nervous gesture. "Oh, there's no problem with that, really. They love Miranda... I'm personally more worried about that puppy Kendall keeps threatening my place with."

"Dogs are good people, B. No," she laughed at Bianca's snort as the brunette continued to snatch up several toys from the couch that definitely would have hurt like hell to sit on. "No, seriously, Bianca... dogs are, really, doggie."

"That's a scientific fact, huh, Doctor Stone?"

Maggie arched the eyebrow even higher and, blushing, Bianca ducked her head; shaking her head, Maggie set the bag in the chair and settled on the couch, opening her jacket and peeling it off, eyes on Bianca's back as she dropped the toys into the nearby play yard. Turning around, she cocked an eyebrow of her own. "Have you ever had a dog, oh Great Dog Knower?"

"No, but Ames did!" Her eyes focused on the floppy stuffed worm she was apparently focused on, she missed the flinch from Bianca... the brunette crossed her arms over her chest, beating down the rising irritation again. Absently, she listened to Maggie go on about some Labrador Retriever that she and Ames had found when they had been little.

Finally raising her head, Bianca stepped forward and took a seat beside Maggie, instantly regretting how close she sat, feeling the heat from Maggie's thigh against hers... her hand was close enough to hold and her fingers tightened, itching to lace Maggie's. She forced back the instinct to touch Maggie, clearing her throat.

"So... where is Amy now anyway? Is she busy today?"

"Sort of." She grinned, teeth flashing beautifully. "Later, we're going to go shopping for stuff for her next... um, she wants me to show her around town though so, yeah, I guess could say we're going to be busy. Amy and her shopping?" She shook her head, rubbing her forehead and Bianca immediately stiffened.

"What's the matter? Do you have a headache?"

Maggie looked over, looking baffled for a second before shaking her head again, shrugging. "Just a little one… you know me and my inability to release stress. Stress builds and I end up with a migraine."

"I thought you just said it was a little headache?" It was the first time, in a long time, Bianca found herself with the ability to help Maggie and she was surprised at the rush of excitement that brought to her. She moved forward, only slightly aware of the feel of Maggie's leg pressing harder against hers. "Do you want any Tylenol or… or anything?"

Maggie's hands, under her hair and somewhere around the base of her skull, paused in their restless movements, brown eyes met hers warily. "What? No, no… I don't need any. Besides this is starting to work."

"Rubbing your neck is starting to work?" Bianca asked in confusion.

"No… no, uh, pressure points. It's easing up a little." She shrugged again, lightly, and her hands restarted their movements. "Really, it's easing up a bit."

For long moments Bianca watched her, before, with a sudden feeling of courage, she leaned over closer. "Can't I help? I mean… I can help right?" Panic spread across Maggie's face, lit up her gaze and, for a second or two all Maggie could do was stare at her before, in a sudden movement, she snapped her mouth shut.

"Do you know pressure points?" Boy was Maggie direct—_and extremely nice-looking_—today! Bianca considered her words, rolled them for a moment before taking the chance and speaking quietly. "Well, you can show me right? Plus, I mean… they could always be useful if Kendall gets a headache, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." More silence and her hands finally dropped, folded in her lap and Bianca suddenly wanted to bang her head against a wall. Just a year or so before, she would have had Maggie's feet up and a bag of frozen peas on her forehead and her fingers massaging her head about two seconds after learning about a headache.

Now, Maggie was looking at her like she was Medusa after a nice trip to the salon, eyes wide, face unreadable and legs and hands locked together. It was absolutely horrible and, with a flare of irritation, Bianca decided to do something about it. Before Maggie could make a single noise of refusal, she had grabbed Maggie's arm and twisted her in the seat, scooting herself behind the smaller woman.

One leg hooked around her hips and, hopping once to get comfortable, she started pressing her fingers into Maggie's skull; she apparently really sucked at this pressure points thing, at least to judge by Maggie's hasty yelp of pain and her jerk between Bianca's legs.

"Sorry." Oh, yeah, Montgomery, like sorry will fix this stupidity! She was about to drop her hands and get away when, with a sigh, Maggie's hands grabbed hers, keeping her pinned for a moment while she yanked them forward to inspect. Fingers altered Bianca, spread them and bent them and, after a pregnant pause, she spoke.

"I can not believe you don't know headache pressure points, Bianca."

"Sorry." Oh, yeah, she sounded real intelligent today, didn't she? This, however, was just a passing thought, what with Maggie's hands on hers.

"Stop saying sorry, huh? Here… no, stop getting all tense, I'm trying to be all Professor Stone… what? Are you cold?" She twisted slightly, frowning at the feel of Bianca's sudden shudder behind her, but all Bianca did was smile back dumbly. Deciding to ignore Bianca's strangeness, she resettled, setting the brunette's palms against the back of her neck. "Just… here… I'll show you where. Stop tensing… good."

Bianca was not in good shape. Trying to rid her mind of the all-too-clear image of Maggie in a school uniform, teaching her, she tried to focus on how the object of her fantasy was trying to settle her hands… finally, she stopped, and Bianca found her fingertips settled just beneath Maggie's ears, right in that hollow. "Right there… feel that hollow? Just, um, that's the spot right there."

It proved to be all-too easy for Bianca to get the feel of what she was supposed to be doing. A part of her was truly worried and wanting to ease Maggie's pain… the other part of her, the part she affectionately termed "No Good Horn-dog" was in full bloom with something as simple as learning pressure points.

Maggie's groan about a minute after she started work didn't help and, finally, Maggie pulled her fingers away, trusting in Bianca to ease the pain in her skull… that groan, definitely a sound that the inner horn-dog had been dying to hear and, boy, was it worth the wait. Definitely a sound she wanted to be hearing regularly. Wonderful, just right… one of the most beautiful noises she'd ever heard.

God, this was just wrong… yet, she didn't stop her work, although she leaned forward at one point to observe Maggie's utterly blank face, the hands that lay in her lap limply. Hey… she wasn't all that bad at this pressure point stuff, huh? Pleased with herself, she turned her fingers slightly and found that Maggie suddenly went completely and totally limp, uttering a single sound of "ugh" very quietly.

She was rapidly devolving to the earliest form of woman, a woman who walked fearlessly in her fur bikini, giving and taking pleasure where she found it… well, there went her mind, right straight back into the Maggie Stone gutter! Images of Maggie in a fur bikini danced merrily through her head, apparently having stolen the sugar plums job.

Still, could anyone blame her? Maggie was literally right there, between her legs, in a state of complete and total relaxation… she was single-handedly responsible for easing Maggie of her migraine… yes, this would be one of their wedding vows… "I swear to ease your migraines, my dear, dear Maggie!" Oh, God, how could she be—

"Bianca!"

Maggie uttered a whispering shriek, leaping to her feet and weaving slightly, eyes glazed over and dulled; Bianca, hands halted in mid-air, continued to move for a few minute as she stared in wide-eyed horror at her mother and uncle… the movement of her fingers stopped… Erica and Jack continued to stare and, hey, damn it, why the hell was Uncle Jack grinning like that?

Maggie spun, looked down at her, blinked twice; she jerked her head towards Erica in a move that resembled that of a parrot before, yes, she literally squawked "Gotta go!" She beamed stupidly at Jack and Erica before leaving, slamming the door after her… there was complete silence as Erica stared at her, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

And, then, like the sweet thing she was, Miranda flung both arms into the air, bounced in jack's hold and cried out, in a full-throated yell, "Da!" And, sadly, all Bianca could do was sit there stupidly and think of Maggie in a fur bikini.

_

* * *

Nova Scotia…_

He paused, finger moving across papers, over lines of ink and black and white images. Every so often, he caught a sentence, caught a word and would jot it down in the notebook at his side, sighing. Some of his notes had a small star at the side and he also had noted two names for further inquiry after he exhausted their resources.

Dark eyes caught the next sentence, a hand picked back up the pen thoughtfully before putting it down word for word on the blue lined paper nearby. Surprising how much stuff you could get from Pine Valley newspapers… and all of it he needed, didn't he?

Laying back down the pen, he shifted a large section of paper, studied the grainy face he caught sight of, studied dark hair and the protective stance of the two women nearby… studied the curve of her growing stomach and, with a disgusted noise, snatched up that section and opened it, eyes scanning for words he wanted.

Halfway through he got lucky and began scribbling eagerly, legs shifting with tight energy beneath the library table as his pen flew across paper. He circled the latest notes, underlined them carefully before dropping his pen noisily to the table and grabbing up another section, reassured that he could everything he needed from the old papers.

Time passed, hand son the clock in the corner moving and circling in a dance… his tie was loosened, his jacket was peeled off… college students filed out and still he researched, getting up every few hours to put the old papers away and get himself a new group of information just waiting to be harvested by someone like him.

He could get everything he needed from the papers, and his notebook was proof of that. What had started earlier as a group of quick lines was now a many paged journal, filled with words and nervous scribbles and, now, ten hours after he had come in, he flipped through the papers filled with her fast writing.

He had everything he needed, didn't he?

His nod of self-reassurance went still as he caught the female name written in the first pages, one of the names available to find extra information… he wondered, with sudden intensity, what she looked like and found himself coming to a decision about what he needed.

Maybe not _all_ of it was in the library after all.

* * *

_AN: Read and review! My reviews for this fic are seriously lacking and I want to know if am affecting you at all here! I know people are reading!_


	6. Chapter Five

_AN: My computer is still being bitchy… still! But I'm proud of this chapter so, hey, I'll get her fixed one of these days! Anyway, I'm really going to suggest that you run over to my page and skim through the fic entitled "A Love Story". It'll make this fic so much easier to follow, believe me and, no, this isn't a pathetic attempt to worm reviews from the people reading this. Oh, and, by the way, I own Maxie Malone the same way I own Amy and Micaela! Yes, people, I love my Mary Sues, can you tell?_ READ AND REVIEW, by the way! 

_Anyway, I have finally laid out the basic outline for my Mondo-fic of death… and I've got good news and bad news. The good news? This is a BAM fic… duh, it's on the BAM board. And there will be some very good BAM romance… well, I'm proud of it so you know, even if it sucks, I'll still post it. The bad news? Well, this is going to be long. There will also basically be what I consider four parts. The first is extremely dark so I'm warning you right now. There will be some dark and mature mentions of things that I realize might need to be warned about. After that will be much fluff and romance and romantic fluff. Then there will be angst… heavy, heavy, heavy angst… and I mean angst people… read one of my Babe and JR fics… even more angst-y than those! Then, finally, there will be romance and, this time, there will be an actual happy-ending! No, really, I mean it! A happy-ending, I promise! Geez… why don't you guys believe me…?_

**_

* * *

Stand By Me_**_Chapter Five_

Amy watched from her perch atop Micaela's bed as her boss put the folded clothes in, book in her hands as she contemplated ways to get Micaela to stop fretting about her. The older woman, in her pleated green skirt and black silk camisole top-thingie, worked barefoot, easily preparing for her trip to Switzerland.

Turning away from the bed, she waltzed back to the several dresses hanging in her still mostly empty closet and picked one, a little dark red number, slipping it out and laying it out on her bed. Her book forgotten, Amy finally set it aside, stifling a yawn and refusing her gut need for coffee until Micaela was on the plane and off.

"So, how long are you gonna be gone, anyway?"

Black hair shifted, slid over a shoulder as Micaela shook her head with a sigh. "Well, I'll be there a day, then I'll meet up for the papers about the club and then… hmm… well, that other business will take a good two days."

"You mean enjoying Mr. Adam Chandler's spa and resort?" Smirking, she rolled her big blue eyes. "Yeah, Micaela, that takes just days of work, really!"

"Shut up, Amy." Twisting away from the younger woman's laughter, she shook her head again, striding to her dresser and picking her way through bottles of perfume and containers of lotion, she started choosing one here and there. "Besides, I'm a business woman… I need a break every so often, Madame Cohen."

"Still…" Amy patted her pajama-clad leg, wishing she had changed into actual clothes before she'd rushed over here to get the news about the big trip. What she wouldn't do to be out of her Hockey puck decorated slacks and into actual jeans. Her tank top wasn't that bad but it wasn't good to go running around Pennsylvania in January like this. "So, Mr. Chandler just showed up and gave you this big deal?"

"Yep." With her arms half-full of her necessities, Micaela turned, took a few steps and dropped them all to the bed. Looking up, she flashed a grin at her closest friend, and all the force of her little five-foot frame was in that big old smile of hers. "Maybe I'm just a good business woman, huh?"

"Or, maybe he wants a piece." She paused, studied the sudden ashy quality of Micaela's warm brown skin and the horrified look in deep brown eyes and instantly offered, "Sorry for that imagery."

"Yeah… that would be like bedding Pa, I think." She gave a full-body shiver, a fine shiver along her frame and, snatching up the small bag at her side, she began to look through the stuff she'd pulled from the dresser top. "Please, Amy, never say anything like that again. Besides, I'll be riding over there with the same sonofabitch who sent me to jail."

"JR Chandler." Her interest peaked, Amy rolled to her knees and scooted downwards, settling back down between bottles of Almond and Citrus lotions and crossing her legs Indian-style. "What if he has a police force waiting on the flight for you? I mean, he put you in jail, Micaela. Still, he had a little bit of a reason to."

"Don't start with me, Madame."

"Micaela, you hit his parked car… his brand-new, extremely expensive new car that was parked." At Micaela's betrayed look, she simply shook her head, grinning her one-of-a-kind smile. "Why do you even continue to drive, Micaela? It's clear that the cars don't like you… why don't you just throw in the towel, hire yourself a chauffeur? You have the money."

"I don't need no damn chauffeur, Amy. Texans don't need no goddamn chauffeurs." She snorted, stomping one small bare foot on the carpet, and her accent—_an accent that had charmed many a men in her twenty-five years from her Pa to the billionaire that she'd recently dumped after he'd proposed marriage_—slipped forward in her irritation, a Texan twang. "I can drive a goddamn car… they just have something against my perfect state of perfection."

Amy was only barely able to hold in her eye-roll as Micaela put her last object in the bag and zipped it closed, carefully laying it in her black, wheeled luggage. Dropping the flap, she zipped that as well, lifting it off the bed and setting it to the side. "Okay, Calamity Jane, fine, you don't have issues with driving so let's stop the swearing, huh? Back to my first question… or was it the second? Anyway, it's a good deal?"

"A great deal." She picked up her brush from the bedside drawer, stepped lightly around the bed and dropped down beside Amy, carefully folding her legs under her. She started dragging the brush through her black hair, strong, effortless movements. "I mean, not only will I have the permission to build the club if I want, Adam Chandler will be providing the space for the club. I mean, I can't lose, right?"

"My witch sense is tingling, Micaela. Was there anything else in the documents? What?" she asked at Micaela's sudden twitch and slight jump, not to mention the sudden nervous shiftiness of the eyes. "What? Did you sign anything extra?"

"No… come on, you're talking to Buck Kincaid's baby girl… I know how to sign business papers. I mean, Pa taught me well, you know that. Besides, really, your witch sense tingles when I get one too many beers in your system." Ignoring the continued curious look, she kept up the brushing, the light glinting off the emerald and silver of her most beloved possession, her ring.

"Doesn't change the fact that it's usually right though. Even if it's about the fact that the sense tells me that I'm drunk."

"Uh-huh." She finally stopped, stood and hopped lightly to stare at her reflection in the mirror, studying the way her hair fell. Nodding in pleasure and apparently finished, she set down the brush and picked up the green blazer that was lying nearby, slipping it on and tugging it into the right lay.

She buttoned it, studied her reflection and frowned, shaking her head. Opening the buttons, she studied her reflection and nodded, smoothing hands down her black top-thingie. She turned, held her hands out in a half-pose and asked, "How do I look?"

"Very Micaela-esqe."

"Ha ha ha, you tall freak. Really? Do I look business worthy?"

"Oh, yes, definitely. So, who's going to drive you to the plane?"

"I can still drive, you know."

"That's what you think." Snatching up the brush, Micaela flung it in her direction and she ducked her head with a squeak, straightening with laughter. "Missed me. But, really, I can drive you if you want. God knows, you should live long enough to enjoy your club since you're gonna get it after all this time."

"Well, if you insist." She watched as Amy climbed off the bed, unfolding long legs and tugging back on her jacket, leaving the bedroom with Micaela following, large leather work bag over one shoulder, rolling her bag along behind her. "My offer to buy you an apartment is still open, you know. You don't have to stay at that Pine Cone place."

"I already said no, okay? I want to get myself an apartment or some other place to stay. And, you know, I'm still looking for some nice little couple who'll lend me one of their old rooms that are empty they're kids are at college."

"Yeah… that also translates to the fact that you want a nice little grandpa and grandma, Amy." She stepped past her, watching as the taller woman locked and checked the door. Leaning the roller for a moment against her leg, she tugged her sunglasses out and put them on, a very model-esqe movement if you asked Amy.

Even if Micaela was completely drunk after a night out and completely out of it she still managed to look classy and this was no exception. She walked perfect, talked perfect and was, in essence, perfect. Well, actually, she was bitchy, sneaky, short-tempered and had enough abandonment issues to make even Amy herself look emotionally healthy.

But, the fact was, she was able to hide all of that extremely well and that, in itself, was what made her so damn perfect. While everyone else went around and tried to achieve perfection, she lived in a state of false perfection and made others look on in awe. She no longer worried about it because she got the point: there was no such thing as perfection.

* * *

Kendall was still upset with her and Bianca was about to crack up, especially since she no longer had any idea where her sister was. No, she was off somewhere with Zach Slater, going through with their apparent new deal. God only knew how Mom was going to take the news and right now, Bianca was too chicken to even answer her mother's curious questions about Kendall's sudden disappearance just a few hours after JR's. 

Their fight, witnessed by Zach himself, couldn't have been worse really. What had started as Kendall's request to let Miranda visit JR had become a huge blow-out and, before she knew it, she'd found Kendall holding open the door, stance cold, eyes chilly blue. The fact that the whole business arrangement had slipped out in the battle hadn't helped and she'd left, fighting tears and wishing that she could run over to JR and give him some reason not to hate her.

But, no… she had to protect Babe.

On top of the fact that her sister currently wanted nothing to do with her, Miranda had found herself down with a cold. The entire night had been spent trying to ease her fussing and keep her calmed enough to get the medicine in every six hours. Now, finally, with the sun up and the morning dew outside glittering like pearls, she finally had Miranda asleep and lay out along her couch, bright red baby medicine straining her best new white top.

JR probably knew how to get Miranda to take her medicine. Hell, she'd seen him do even, when she'd dropped by months before. Babe had been helpless and the only one who'd managed to get the awful-tasting stuff in had been JR, who'd crooned her calm enough to make her swallow.

Bianca reached up, pushed sticky hair from her face and closed her eyes with a groan, wishing she hadn't thought of JR. JR, currently in Switzerland, now was in a kind of extra special business deal with Kendall and Zach, something about getting what he wanted while they got what they wanted.

She had to stop thinking about JR… she had to. She'd promised Babe that she would do everything in her power to keep her safe and sound. Even if that meant that JR mourned like she had… God… she covered her face with her hands, stretched out a bit more and folded her legs tighter, wanting nothing to do but sleep.

And, then, just when images of the Chandler family began to dim, fade from her inner view, the battering against her door started, a violent slam of a fist against a door. Almost falling, her heart in her throat and thoroughly intending to find Palmer Cortlandt and Adam Chandler at her door, bellowing for their nephew/grandson, she staggered, tipped over a toy and almost slammed down hard. Finally though, breathless, she yanked the door open and nearly fell when Maxie strode past her like some queen.

Boy, she had certainly adjusted quickly to her grandfather's money, hadn't she? Perfect heels, flawless dress, diamond necklace and earrings… the young showgirl had even highlighted her dark hair with honey gold streaks. She tossed her bag—something that would have fed a family of four for a month—to the couch and spun, huge grin on her face.

"I did it!" She threw out her hands, light flashing off the massive rock that adorned one finger. "I finally got it all fixed up for us and little Miranda!"

"Um, what?"

Hazel eyes looked her over, settling on the medicine stain as her mouth pinched slightly. "The company? Cambias? It's all signed up for us to make ourselves, just… ooh!" Dear God, she looked like she was about to have an orgasm right in front of Bianca… right down to the final cry of joy as she threw out her hands again. "Can you believe how amazing this all is!"

"Um… yeah?"

"Here, come here. Sit, sit, sit. Let me enlighten you as to the many things that I done since just a week ago."

Feeling drained, only dully aware of the way Maxie continued to peer every so often in distaste of the stain, she listened, head pounding and limbs aching with exhaustion. She was aware of her the part of her hair that had gotten splattered with the medicine was sticking to her and began trying to get the sticky mess off her skin—wait… what… "What!"

Maxie froze, blinking before, with a roll of Zach's intense hazel eyes, she sighed and dropped her hand from where she'd been inspecting the rock. "Fusion. That little cosmetic company run by the Three Stoggettes? It's mine now."

"No." She leaned forward, grabbed Maxie's arm. "The company… what did you say about it? I mean… you didn't!"

"I had to, Bianca… she… she insulted me in public! She called me a— a two-bit whore… I can't let her get away with that!" She shook her head hard, hair whipping with the movement. "No, besides, she can always make herself a new company! I own this one! And, seeing that I own it, I can do what ever I want with it!"

Well, that answered the question of why Kendall was suddenly so goddamn set on kicking Maxie's pretty, perfect ass and even considering this plan. With a groan, Bianca pressed her palm against her skull, trying to ease the chaotic, painful thoughts and stop the building pressure of exhaustion and exasperation. God, no wonder Kendall had gone off on her like that… she probably thought that she didn't care at all!

"Oh, God, Maxie… you have to stop this, you have no idea what you're about to start okay? Just, give Kendall and Greenlee the company, okay? I mean—"

"No." The short answer froze Bianca in mid-word and she blinked in surprise at the chilly look she had focused on her. "Bianca, I have fought me ass off to get my birthright… my birthright, Bianca, what my father tried to take from me, what my mother promised me. This is the only good thing she ever gave me and you gave me that test. Kendall attacked me in public, she said that I was a lie and a scam and I will not be treated like some two-bit trash."

She stood, staring down at Bianca who just stared right back, punch-drunk and dazed by the sudden attack. "I did what you want, Bianca. I even got my hold and Chandler Enterprises and I'm now taking care of it. I'm disassembling it, like you asked. You begged me not to let him get all that power back, begged me not to let him get as dangerous as he can be and I did it. I'm disassembling it because you asked me to."

"Oh." It was the only thing she could say, staring up at Zach's young daughter, who she'd first met one night after one of her shows in Vegas and had immediately began supporting the young woman on her hungry search for her father. She watched, eyes wide as Maxie picked back up the bag and then headed for the door… and then paused, turning half-way to remark, "You might want to change out of that. You have a stain."

And then she was gone and, with a hollow sigh, Bianca dropped her head into her hands, a very sharp shudder of exhaustion racing through her slim form. And then, a painful sound from upstairs made her look up, grimacing as Miranda alerted her that was once again awake and in need of comfort.

* * *

The hammer lay in her briefcase; ready for her use, for if she would need it to protect her. It lay with the paper with the story of the woman who had finally passed away after a week of battling the beating that had left her to die in her invaded home. It was about to be cut out and put away in the box with the other nightmares she was terrified of. 

Erin blew on her coffee, her eyes on the briefcase, where she could actually feel her safety just waiting for her, right in reach if he should show up… he'd never put his hands on her, do that to her… she'd die before she let him do that… Jonathon would die before he let him do that to her.

"Hey, Lavery."

Shit. She looked over and cringed inwardly at Ken, smarmy Ken… the office Grabby Hands. So what if he had grabbed every female ass and tit in this place? So what if she was the only one he had yet to cop a feel out of when he caught her alone in a hallway or copying room? So what if the bosses thought more of his earnings for the company than the fact that he went around molesting every woman in the company?

Erin didn't like him very much.

Not from the first time he'd caught her bending down for a dropped file and remarked how wonderful his office view was. Very few people could inspire real hatred from Erin Lavery… very few. Oh, she had rage but she was good at controlling it actually, good at staying calm even when dealing with royal fuck-heads.

Ken, however, inspired urges that she'd never had before. Never before had she ever truly despised anyone the way she despised this bastard. She managed to slip away when he got her cornered, twist when he leaned down to help her with the copying machine. The last time he'd decided to help him with the copying machine, she'd straightened up and slammed her elbow right into his crotch.

He'd stayed away for about a week after that but apparently he had healed completely, hadn't he?

As she watched, he came in, closing her office door with a little laugh, and, she noted, his eyes on her tits. She reached out, closed a hand over her still steaming coffee and his eyes shifted towards it, the slight smirk sliding off his face a bit. From what she understood, the men like Ken would have been weeded out before the shift of power a few years ago. Now, however, the new head boss didn't seem to give a damn.

"Is there something you'd like Ken?"

_Wrong fucking choice of words, there, sister._ His smirk bloomed again and, with an extra perky stride, he stepped closer but sadly, not yet close to get him with the coffee. "You know what you can do for me, Lavery. However, now is not the time and I have a question for you."

She just stared at him, face emotionless, and eyes shockingly cold and frozen. He sighed, and moved, still too far away to nail him with the coffee. "There are some big whispers of a big move."

"Fascinating, Kenneth, truly."

"And, well, our boss wants us to go on that trip."

Us? Shit. She felt her stomach lurch violently, felt her mouth go dry as the full complications of that single word sank into her skull, into her awareness. Shit. A trip together… together with this piece of shit. Shit.

"Yep. You and me, the best workers in this place on a happy trip to Pennsylvania, some stupid little town where we have to try to get some questions asked. Just you and me and fine, fine hotels." He was grinning at her, a leer, and she felt a surge of fury rise through her at the thought of them together. Son of a bitch…

"When?" Amazing, how well she could act calm as a lake even while such hatred coursed through her veins. Absolutely fucking amazing. She held the coffee more tightly, hoping the mug didn't shatter and not giving a damn how hot it was on her soft hand. How much her fingers were beginning to hurt at how tightly she held the mug.

"Hmm… apparently, the flight is scheduled for next week and then we'll be spending a week in a hotel room or two, doing our business. You know us, always having business to do." Business. She knew what kind of business he wanted to do… she snapped, cracked, completely broke all touch with sanity for a single second. That was all it took.

Her hand, holding onto the mug so tightly, jerked, turned and threw itself outward, towards him as she threw herself forward in her wheeled chair. The coffee hit right where she wanted, splashing as a hot wave of liquid across his crotch and stomach… she had a very big mug and every drop hit him full force.

He shrieked… He honestly fucking shrieked and it was a wonderful sound to her ears as she scooted herself backwards, rolling back even as she worked her face into perfect innocence. "Oh, God… Ken… I'm so sorry. What? Was it hot?" she asked, watching with large eyes as he jumped up, holding cloth away from skin and groaning in pain.

"You bitch!" He turned towards her and, god; there was that fury he so often had directed at her. But, see, Erin Lavery was a woman who could handle fury… she wasn't afraid of a man who raised his fists, she'd never be afraid of a man who used his fists. No, it had been that other look in his eyes that had freaked her so badly, caused her anger to slip like that. She hated that look in a man's eyes and never wanted to see it.

She watched, head cocked, as he left her office, swearing as he went, yelling for ice and wet towels at the top of his lungs. Erin Lavery didn't like him very much.

* * *

"You look beautiful." 

Maggie looked up from her appraisal in the mirror, meeting Jonathon's clear brown gaze. She blushed, looked away, smoothing hands down the dark fabric. She heard him come in, heard his footsteps and, eyes still on her stomach, she watched his hands slide around, felt heat through the material.

"I do."

"Perfect." His mouth settled on her bare shoulder, stilled for a moment before beginning a slow trail of kisses up her neck and to stop just below that hollow. However, when his lips caught that hollow, she jerked and twisted and he, startled, observed her with large eyes. "Mags?"

She stepped back, reaching up to rub the spot hard, letting out a shaky laugh. "It's nothing," she reassured him, shaking herself forcefully. "It's nothing. You just spooked me slightly, you know?"

"Oh." He looked hurt, ashamed even and stepped back nervously tucked his hands into his pants pockets, nodding. "Yeah… it's okay. Sometimes I spook people."

Spot hurting now, she finally dropped her hand and stepped forward again, beaming as she slipped hands between his arms and around his waist, pressing herself close against his warmth, trying to draw it into herself. "I've been jumpy lately, you know? However, there is a way that we can solve my jumpiness, right?"

An arch of a dark eyebrow, a tilt of a head, and, moving forward, he looped arms around her and one settled on the open area of her back, spreading open fingers and holding her tightly. "Hmm… but we have that dinner reservation, Mags."

"Hmm… but we have time, Jonathon."

He chuckled and it felt nice against her, a warm rumble in his chest that he made too few of these days. It was nice… no, it wasn't perfect but it was nice and, very suddenly, she wanted it very much. Se pressed herself forward, pressed herself against him and, leaning back, she kissed him hard, holding him tightly.

It brought a rush to her and his hand, on her back, dipped lower, slid between dress and skin and continued to slide, warm and what she so desperately needed right now. Groaning, she pushed him, a full-body force and he went willingly, dropping back onto the bed, still holding her just how she wanted right now.

This was what she wanted right now, what she needed and he gave it to her, willingly, feeling desperation in her muscles and skin and touch and responding eagerly… never wanted to be a disappointment.


	7. Chapter Six

_AN: Great news… the computer lives! Yes, she has forgiven me whatever the hell I did to piss her off! Anyway, the following scene with the Kane women is actually a scene from LS that I've put into a flashback…Anyway, enjoy and review!_

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Six_

"_Get away from my daughter, you sick son-of-a-bitch!"_

_Zach stared up at Erica from his place just inside the door of Kendall's condo, eyebrows raising as he realized that Kendall's hand, previously attempting to push him out of her place, had stopped its playful movements. What must it look like to Erica? Well , to judge by the volatile little look in those eyes, she must think it was something it wasn't._

_He also decided that Kendall and Erica looked almost identical when they were pissed._

_Kendall, looking horrified as she spun to the intruders at her back, opened her mouth with a quiet "oh" of terror. Behind Erica, Bianca just stared in horror, the full realization that Kendall and Zach had gone through with their plan already, at least to judge by the massive rock of her small finger._

_Bianca took a step forward, threw her hands up in an attempt to soothe Erica, who surged forward and, grabbing Kendall hard enough to make her first-born yelp in surprise, shoved her behind her protectively… before he could take a single step back, she nailed him across the face full force and he was quite surprised at the feel of strength._

_He was even surprised at the next slap across his other cheek… she managed to get him three times very nicely before Kendall finally got the chance to tug her away and step protectively in front of her new husband, hissing, "What the hell do you think you are doing to him!"_

"_Breaking my neck Spunky—now, what was that for, honey-buns?" he asked when she spun and walloped him on the arm with her snazzy little bag that he'd brought her during their elopement. Looking up, he studied his new mother-in-law with narrowed hazel eyes, head cocked slightly. In front of him, Kendall flung her hands up which was kind of funny to see actually._

"_Kendall, don't you worry about him… I've given him and that brat daughter of his enough warnings to last a lifetime… you just let me handle him—"_

"_Mom…"_

"_Just don't worry about Mr. Cambias!"_

"_Mom!"_

_Kendall's yell finally jerked Erica out of her lethal glaring, halting her rage long enough to blink at her daughter twice… Zach noticed Bianca, at her back, gaping like some stranded fish, eyes huge. She looked slightly humorous. In front of him, Kendall was attempting to continue to protect him from the Tiny Torpedo. "Mother… we were having a business… discussion..."_

_Erica seemed completely baffled by that. "Darling… why?"_

"_Um… it's… complicated…"_

_Zach opened his mouth, grinning, and took a step forward, but Kendall smacked him again, snapping, "Back off, Brainiac!" And then Erica's eyes caught the ring on her daughter's finger; she snagged Kendall's hand, tugged her forcefully forward; she would have fallen if Zach hadn't of caught her arms and held her still while Erica's sharp eyes flew over the nest of perfect gold and diamonds._

_Kendall floundered with ""Mom… let's go out for dinner, er, lunch… we can, um, talk!" But her attempts were in vain as Erica's gaze latched onto the ring decorating Zach's finger and brittle smile slid over her face. When she spoke, her voice was just as brittle, cracking over syllables. "Honey…why does his cheap ring match this nice one?"_

"_Uh… mom… let's go…"_

"_Answer me, Kendall!" The shriek, desperate, was a sound that made Bianca cringe in horror and dart back a step._

"_Um…"_

_Zach, however, was having too much fun, wasn't he because, with a disturbing glint in his eyes and a large grin on his face, stepped forward and wrapped one arm around his wife's perfect shoulders, offering his new mommy-in-law that wicked grin. "Ms. Kane… aren't you going to offer us congrats!"_

"_No…" Oh, the horror in that little whisper, in Erica's brown eyes and her stance with absolute limpness… Kendall cringed and gasped when he stepped up close to Erica, despite her furious tugs on his jacket. Stopping before Erica, he flung open his arms, grin growing to alarming measure._

_He resembled a warped genie… "Mom!"_

* * *

There proved to be a small population of elderly people open to renters who happened to carry around a black-handled knife and wore a Pentagram necklace proudly… seriously, it was like discrimination. And, frankly, sweet little Amy was getting sick of it. And, frankly, from her seat in the passenger seat of Amy's small blue car, Maggie could tell Amy was getting sick of it.

It was fun to watch Amy slowly get more irritated with each let down. "Seriously, Ames, why don't you just get yourself an apartment?"

"Because…" She smacked the wheel, huffing. "Because, dang it, I don't want an apartment! I want to stay with renters… and, no, I can't explain why, Maggie, so don't start bugging me for an answer."

Maggie just snorted, reaching down to the bag of McDonalds and slipping a hand in; shoving a few still steaming fries into her mouth, munching happily as she listened to the annoyed muttering of the brunette at her side, shaking her head in silent laughter. Sucking in air at the sudden flood of heat, she coughed, taking a swig of her Coke. "Do you have any other names?"

"One or two…" She drummed fingertips along the wheel, blue eyes intent on her list of addresses, biting her bottom lip thoughtfully as she read. "I swear, what kind of person loses it when they learn someone goes to a few festivals monthly! Come on!"

"There, there," Maggie soothed her, patting her on the head with a grin, thoroughly enjoying the sight of an annoyed, disheveled Amy the Aimless. "Seriously, Amy, there are all kinds of people who'd rent for a girl like you! Why not go with someone younger? You might even meet someone!"

"Yeah… like this town is really over-flowing with lesbians… give me some of those fries you piggy… thank you."

"No, there aren't exactly a lot but there a few, I believe. And, besides, you're always on the prowl right? Last I heard, you aren't seeing anyone, right?"

"No… unfortunately…" She shoved the last fry back, placed the list back up on the dashboard and planted both hands on the steering wheel, listening to the munching beside her for long moments… okay, time to take a risk… "So, how close are you and Bianca, anyway? I mean, really good friends?"

"Oh, yeah, really close…" A sudden silence, a stop and she scrunched down in her seat a bit, feeling Maggie's blazing gaze on her… "Amy, please oh please tell me I just confused these vibes I'm getting from you."

"I'm just wondering…"

"Oh, no, ma'am, look at me," Maggie ordered, hand snagging Amy's arm firmly and shaking her to get the taller girl's attention. "Where the Hell would you get some crazy idea like that? Me and Bianca? Um, have you forgotten that I'm the straight girl in this car!" Boy, did she protest too much…

"No…" She yanked herself out of Maggie's way-too strong hold, rubbing the skin with a sigh. "Look, okay, I have good instincts and they're telling me big things okay? I mean… she didn't look all that happy with me suddenly popping up and taking her place."

"'taking her place'? Are you listening to yourself here? You and Bianca are precious to me, but taking her place? Once, yeah… she'd have a reason to be all green-eyed and irritated but now? Look, Bianca and I, sometimes we're complicated but really? We aren't as close as we used to be…"

"Aren't you upset about that?"

"Yeah." She shrugged, shaking her head. "Yeah, I was upset about that and then I realized something. Once, we needed each other, we both needed someone to at our side and to comfort us but we don't… need each other anymore. You know, she has Miranda back and her family and it's fixed and, you know, I have David and now I have Jonathon. He worships me, he gives me everything I could possibly need."

"Uh-huh…"

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped and there was a bit of real anger there, making Amy grimace slightly. She'd always hated when Maggie got mad at her. Nothing felt right and she'd always felt lonely until they'd finally made up. "Besides, Bianca doesn't want me… you know… and I'm straight or, at least mostly straight, for now…"

Amy, however, frowned slightly, a slight confusion passing over her pretty face. "Um… why does that matter, Mags?"

She waved a hand, attempting to quell the brunette's piqued interest but it didn't work and, before she knew what happened, Amy was studying her with a sympathetic glance. "I told you before that it was okay to like boys and girls… I thought we solved this before?"

"We did—"

"Well, apparently, we didn't well enough… remember our long months of soul-searching… long nights talking?"

"You are gay and proud of it and I am proud of you because I love seeing you happy and I love you, but I don't see what this has to do—"

"You are still dodging the question—"

"And, I mean… it doesn't matter anyway, we're both in relationships… well, she was but they broke up and, hello, Jonathon—"

"Do you have the hots for Bianca Montgomery?"

Sure, it wasn't exactly the best way to get through Maggie's thick skull but, in the sudden silence of her car, Amy's firm question finally did the trick. Maggie hesitated, eyes closing off as she stared out the windshield at the traffic in the McDonalds parking lot. "Yes, sometimes, I do have feelings for Bianca but, Amy, some part of this bond we had is gone and all that's left is tons of pervy thoughts. It isn't the kind of thing you can build into a relationship."

"But this thing with Jonathon is?"

They stared at each other in the front seat, brown eyes locked with blue and, thankfully, Maggie felt a hand on hers. It should have strange, shouldn't it, so easily lacing her own fingers around Amy's, even after years? And yet that's what she found herself doing in Amy's car. She missed this, having somebody to hold her hand and make things easier and make life less painful.

And here was Amy, beautiful, sweet, loyal Amy with her big blue eyes and gentle smile. Amy, who would never leave her side or leave her in confusion or play with her heart like Bianca did. Amy, who shared painful memories of breaking glass and locked doors with her and didn't use them to hurt her. Amy, her best friend for so long that it hurt to think of all that time apart.

"This thing with Jonathon isn't better, but it's easier and it doesn't hurt."

A handful of words that, from someone else, wouldn't have meant much but from Maggie of the hidden heart and secret soul? Maggie shouldn't be peering at her with those broken eyes and holding her fingers like her last lifeline… Maggie settling for easier instead of better?

She shifted in her seat, facing her and, with a sigh, she leaned forward, sliding hands around Maggie and it felt the same as it had the day that she left, that day that Maggie had finally broke and run home and packed a bag and fled. She'd been thinner then, smaller and more helpless but the feel was the same and she held Maggie even tighter, feeling hands on her back.

"Don't worry, okay? With me here, you don't have to worry about anything ever again."

"Promise?" she whispered into her hair and Amy nodded, holding her even more tightly.

"Always, Mags… always."

* * *

Her back ached and her head throbbed as she eased into her bed, kicking off her shoes as she rolled herself in her covers, eyes already stuck shut in her exhaustion. Still… Kendall was still mad at her and Mom had apparently lost her damn mind, at least to judge from her strange new language.

She was now known as 'Kinks' in her mother's language and, god, even in the Psych-ward, she still managed to be pissed off at her, didn't she? Bianca groaned quietly, wishing everything would stop long enough for her to catch her breath and rest before something else comes up. Dully, she stared at the phone, at where Babe's voice had just recently come through, pleading with her to continue to keep her secret.

Bianca had promised and Bianca always kept her promises, didn't she?

Kendall had married Zach and was now married to Zach… god, that just sounded wrong. Maybe Greenlee could talk some sense into her? That thought made Bianca snort bitterly, she knew full well how things were going on in the oh-so-happy Lavery marriage… oh, yeah, and Ryan's reaction to the happy marriage news?

Everything felt like a frozen pond for her and it was getting so exhausting to try to keep from breaking it. Ryan wanted Kendall and Kendall had run off to Vegas and eloped with Zach and now they were married and Maggie was dating Jonathon and she was running around town with that Cohen woman and she refused to spend any time with her anymore.

And JR was mourning for his son…

She had no idea when this had become her reality. But it had. Everything in her life was suddenly skewered, suddenly shifted painfully by that one single fact that she held inside her head and her heart and what was left of her soul. It was the first thing she thought of when she woke and the last thing she thought of before she slept.

God, what would Kendall think? Despite her loyalty to Bianca, her friendship with JR was powerful, as Bianca had witnessed during their fight, a fight that had started with the need to let JR have the good-bye he needed with his little girl that wasn't his… she'd freaked, panicked and Kendall had planted her feet and refused to give up.

Hence, a battle to rival the Civil War… so, here was Bianca, alone and miserable, wishing Maggie was here to spend time with her and Miranda… wishing Maggie was here to hold her hand and comfort her… wishing Maggie was here to show her what to do… That was how everything was supposed to be now… her and Maggie and Miranda, one happy little family.

* * *

"So… you're coming to town? Next week?" Jonathon set his fork down, his appetite for food gone at the sudden turn of events.

"Yeah, me and a… a business associate. We'll be coming in and settling down to do some business. Why do you sound so annoyed at that? I mean, you always say you want me to visit you… you're still up for a brother and sister reunion."

"I'm sure Rye's gonna be excited, I'll call him—"

"No." Her sharp tone made him still, raising eyes from his half-eaten plate to observe the empty apartment. "No, Jonathon… I don't want him to know I'm there."

"Erin—"

Once again, she cut him off, voice chilly and he leaned back, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead, shaking slightly. "Ryan would love to see you, okay? He's been dying to talk to you, see you, meet you."

"He left us there, Jonathon… with Dad and Mom and their fists and their alcohol… if he tries to come back into my life, dragging me around that town and bragging about how good a brother he was? You'll be bailing me out of jail, Jon, because I'm not letting him put his hands on me like I belong to him."

"He loves us."

"No… he loves us when it's safe to love us, he loves us when it's convenient to love us… that isn't love, Jon."

"He's our brother, Erin."

"He's no brother of mine."

This was how it always ended, how this conversation always ended… "So, what, you're still in Nova Scotia if he asks a week from now?"

"Yeah, yeah, I never left. Promise me you won't tell Ryan."

"I promise… he won't hear it from me, Erin."

"Good… good." His eyes closed and he shivered again, more roughly than before. "I love you… you k now that right, Jon?"

"I know. I love you too…"

"Forever."

"Forever," he agreed quietly.


	8. Chapter Seven

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Seven_

"_Am I a bitch?"_

Micaela's question, crackling over the phone from Switzerland, caused Amy to raise her eyes from her work, staring blankly at the wall of the cheap hotel for long moments as she considered the answer to that question. Micaela was acting strangely. First she calls and snapped about how she hated Amy's psychotic chipperness.

Then she wonders if she's a bitch?

Needless to say, Amy was just slightly baffled; however, baffled Amy still had her sense of humor and, with a mocking sigh, she said, "Sorry, but that was too easy even for me."

"_I'm being serious Amy."_

"Yeah…" Amy studied her work, setting down her marker and leaning back in her chair, propping bare legs up on the table before her. "Yeah, well, so am I. I'm not gonna sit here and say you're an innocent sweetie when you know better. we both know how nasty you can be, don't we?"

"_Yeah, but—"_ A pregnant pause, a hesitation for several long seconds before her voice returned. _"I mean, I don't usually say anything too bad, right? I never said anything to you, right? Nothing too… painful?"_

Okay, the weirdness was continuing here. "Would I be talking to you if you had, Micaela?" Yeah, sharp, but for some reason, this weirdness was getting on Amy's nerves. "Micaela, what happened to make you go all self-pity?"

"_I-I said something, Amy… God, Amy… God, Amy… I can't believe I said it… I mean, I know, at least a bit, what he's going through and…"_

Okay, now Amy was beginning to fret. That was actual guilt in Micaela Kincaide's voice, actual fucking guilt. "Micaela, explain first and then mope… I don't understand… Could I have some help here please?"

An explosive sigh and then the sound of a pillow being beaten by an angry young business woman who was having a bit of a crack-up in Switzerland. _"Chandler. JR Chandler? I threw his dead son in his face to piss him off—"_

The marker she had just picked back up dropped to the table with a clatter as her eyes widened in shock. She must have looked rather stupid staring at her wall like it was a kind of monster. "Micaela… tell me you didn't—"

"_I did, I did and all I can do is sit here and feel sorry for myself. It's disgusting, feeling sorry for myself, I mean, he ran out of here like a nut, what if, god forbid, what if he drove off some cliff?"_ she shrieked and Amy leaned back forward, resting her head in her hands and wishing that Micaela would, for once, think before she talked when she was acting pissy.

* * *

"Why doesn't she just get herself an apartment?"

Maggie looked up from her textbooks, thankfully accepting the drink Jonathon offered, and, leaning back, she winced at the pop that greeted her movement. He grinned to himself but went back to the bags of groceries, sorting them out and setting aside a small pile of the cold stuff to be put away.

"Have you not moved at all since I left this morning?"

Her answer was another wince as, taking a deep breath, she stretched in her seat, and her body answered with sounds that seemed to belong on some horror movie soundtrack. Relaxing, she ran fingers through her hair and regarded him with warm eyes and a grin of amusement at the sight of the obsessive cleaner of the two. "Well, what can I say, biochemistry is just so dang fascinating these days!"

He set aside a box of cereal to the side before hauling the other pile into the kitchen and opened up the fridge, beginning to pop in items easily, each item going straight to its spot with a single glance of dark eyes to check it was right. Only then, with everything put away, did he approach her, tugging off his jacket before dropping onto the couch with a sigh.

"Seriously, is she some whack job out to massacre little old couples? Because, see, I can't I really see someone her age wanting an old couple hanging over her, whining for rent on a monthly basis." He looked over, arched an eyebrow. "I don't get it, Mags. Could you please explain?"

"Amy is hard to explain." Shutting her books, she set them on the table and then flopped back, stretching out her legs and bare toes, and twisted back open the bottle of chilled soda that he'd grabbed for her, taking a swig. "I mean, when I first met her I thought that there was something really wrong with her and Frankie kept saying that she was sure that Amy was a space alien and Amy just ran around with her own little style."

"Is there something wrong with her? Should I fear a probe and a Mother Ship?"

Maggie choked on her next swallow at that, coughing and he immediately gave her a thump or two to the back, looking both amused and ashamed as he watched her deal with the drink for a moment or two. "Sorry."

She just shook her head, reaching out to set a hand on his thigh, wonderfully warm through the fabric of his jeans. Enjoying that heat and enjoying how that heat would respond to her touch, she left her hand there, thinking over her words carefully. "Amy's uncle wasn't exactly a model of male behavior, Jonathon. He was a real mean drunk and she wound up getting stuck with him when her mom died."

"Was Mommy a real mean drunk too?" His voice sounded mellow but she wasn't fooled and she tightened her fingers into his thigh, looking over and leaning closer in the same movement, studying his still face. "I can't be sure because I never knew her but Amy always said she was wonderful. She raised Amy for years before she died and then Owen got her."

"She didn't have a father?"

"She doesn't know." At his look, she rolled her eyes, tapping the plastic bottle against her knee. "Well, of course, she _has_ a father, you know, that's how it all works. What I mean is, she never knew him. He came in, knocked up her Mom and then ran off… apparently, he was a real charmer and she fell for him pretty hard."

"Did she even know a name?"

Maggie stretched out, settling into his lap and felt his fingertips brush her temples, and she thought back, unwillingly, to softer hands with a gentler strength to them that had eased her a few days before. She closed her eyes, sighing. "Her mom did but she was one of those people who wanted to tell her daughter when she got older. I don't think she expected to get nailed by a drunk in a Chevy after she finished her shift at the pancake house… you know how it goes."

"Don't I ever." His touch continued, trailing back and through her hair and she continued to focus of her other memories, enjoying how easy it was to change the little things that felt wrong. "So she doesn't know anything?"

"Nothing," Maggie murmured, feeling hands run over her collarbone and back, rubbing slowly. "It's like some curse on us, I swear. All three of us get raised by drunks, Amy's mom gets killed by a drunk unlucky enough to wind up with keys and, hey, let's not forget your stellar mommy."

"Yeah… let's not forget about her." The fingers stopped their movements and she forced her eyes open, feeling him lean back on the couch. The muscles in his legs were tighter now and she rolled onto her back, scooting slightly to peer up at him, where he sat, rubbing his face. "I wasn't going to bring it up for a few days but maybe I should now."

"What?" she asked in concern, attempting to work herself out of her relaxed daze.

"My sister's coming into town next week."

"Really?" She surprised herself with the sudden excitement she felt and she seemed to surprise him even more since he looked down in interest, raising eyebrows at her girlish grin. "What? Is there some secret girl club that I should know about?"

She grinned even more broadly and then sat up, wrapping arms around his neck as she did, beaming. "No, no… you've just told me so much about her, you know? I have all these great images of you and her, running around as kids." Jonathon smiled slightly, continuing to study her as she ran hands up his chest. "You must be so happy."

'I am… but, um, that's one of the problems." He hesitated, watched her hands slow and then still, stopping on his shoulders and her warm eyes grow questioning. "I know that it might sound crazy but she's just here for a nice vacation, away from people who want to bug the hell out of her. So, Ryan can't know."

Maggie stared for long moments, processing that before she leaned back slightly, frowning. "Right… why?"

"Erin… you know my sister is really, really independent you know and she doesn't really like Ryan all that much."

"But he's her brother," she muttered, and frowned even more. Jonathon would walk across hot coals for Ryan, would take a bullet for him and she didn't even want to see him? Okay, slight weirdness there. "Wouldn't she want to see him? He probably wants to see her."

"I remember Ryan before he left, you know. I have a lot of good memories with him but Erin was younger and she can barely remember him at all." He sighed, rubbing her back, and she sat patiently. "She doesn't think he loves us and she's really hurt over it. She thinks he abandoned us."

"Oh." Maggie understood that, in some way but still… a knot of something painful had settled in her stomach and now it twisted painfully, bringing up memories of sneaking out and leaving Frankie's form sleeping in their bedroom, not realizing she was leaving her forever. "Maybe she doesn't get it, you know? I mean, sometimes, you have to survive… you have to get out and keep yourself alive."

"Yeah, yeah." He cleared his throat, and his voice was still rough when he continued. "well, she's still sensitive about it so I'd really, really appreciate it if you just didn't tell Ryan. I mean, I'm not asking you to lie, not—not after what I did to Miranda's shirt but… I highly doubt that he'll come up to you and ask if my sister's in town. I just really don't want anyone going up to him and going, 'hey, your sister's in town… want to go see her?'"

"Oh." Okay, she got that…besides, her connection with Ryan really only went through Jonathon and Ryan was busy with Greenlee and Kendall now anyway. And then another thought hit her. "Wait, won't he recognize her if he bumps into her? I mean, she is his sister."

"He hasn't seen her in years, Maggie. She's grown a lot in the past years and she's an adult. He hasn't seen her since she was knee level to him. Believe me, if he bangs into her he won't even know her." He peered at her, smiled slightly. "I'm sorry to do this but she begged me and… I can't deny her, Maggie, I love her too much."

"I know." She kissed him, a brush of lips and he chuckled slightly. "I know and I get that." Another kiss, harder this time, pulling away to grin and murmur, "I promise" before dipping back in to press herself up closer and tighten her hold on him, feeling his hands, on her hips, slide back and up beneath her top.

Fingers slid between skin and the straps of her bra and she grinned against his mouth, closing her eyes and ignoring how much she wanted to smell Bianca's new lotion instead of his aftershave… not what she wanted but enough… enough for both of them right now…

When a hand rapped hard against the door, Jonathon simply groaned, a defeated noise of annoyance that reminded her of a child losing its favorite toy. "Sorry," she purred, and climbed off his lap, tugging and smoothing her shirt before heading to the door, grinning at his pout.

Halfway there, the knocking started again, louder than before and she sighed, increasing her speed as she yelled, "Hold your horses!" Pausing, she opened the door and blinked twice, having a single second to absorb the sight of an agitated looking Bianca before the brunette rushed in, a fussy looking Miranda on her hip.

And the weirdness continues!

Jonathon, from his place on the couch, stared at the figure, eyes wide before he noticed Maggie's furious hand motions and he jumped up, clearing his throat as he smoothed his own shirt. Bianca glanced at him, blinked before, with an agitated noise, she turned her attention back to Maggie.

"I've been trying to call you." There was something off in her eyes and Maggie remembered that she was holding open the door like a big dork. Shaking herself, she closed it, locking it before taking a few steps forward to the single mother, noticing, as she did, the frazzled state of the woman.

With Miranda on one hip and a massive diaper bag hanging from the opposite shoulder, she stood there, with little Miranda bundled up and in a loose jacket of her own; dark hair was sticking up from its once-tight ponytail and, even as Maggie watched, Miranda reached up and began yanking savagely on her mother's necklace, fussing.

The third try, even as Bianca attempted to get her to stop, Miranda achieved her apparent purpose in life; it snapped and blue and green beads exploded into the air, scattering across the floor. It took about ten seconds for beads to completely decorate the apartment she shared with Jonathon.

For a second or two, Miranda looked down at the accomplishment with wide dark eyes; looking back up at her mother's bare neck and blinked. And then she threw back her head and she started screaming, the harsh shrieks of an angry child who'd lost her favorite toy.

And Maggie caught the way Bianca's lip began to ever so slightly quiver and the way her eyes started filling with tears as she began to jiggle Miranda more desperately. She was, in essence, about to completely crack and Maggie saw it as clear as day. And she took full charge; anyone watching probably would have expected the 'Patton' theme to begin playing at any second.

Jonathon just continued to stare at Miranda like she was some little beast and, listening to the sound of her shrieks, Maggie couldn't really blame him. Darting forward, she grabbed Jon, looked him in the eye, blinked and chirped, "Can I have some time alone? With Bianca and Miranda?"

"Yeah." Looking like he was in pain, he leaned forward, kissed her happily before, with a nod, he went past her, grabbing up his jacket as he went and opened the door, stopping just long to tell Maggie he loved her once more before he fled from the child who was losing it in Bianca's arms.

Spinning back, Maggie crossed the room and, plucking Miranda from her mother's arms, she settled her on her own hip; the change of pace startled the girl into silence and she peered around with her wet face, sniffling as she held on to Maggie's top with drool-covered fingers. "Sit," she snapped at Bianca and the other woman meekly obeyed, folding her legs as she settled on the couch, staring down at the floor.

Balancing Miranda on her hip, she leaned forward, caught the strap that lay loose from Bianca's shoulder and dragged the bag off her, turning and then setting it on the table; getting a strange amount of glee from the small noise of awe she heard from around breast-level, she stalked into the bedroom, opening the closet door and moving aside her dress and Jonathon's shirts to grab the cardboard box in the back.

She kicked off her shoes and, with a grunt, she pulled it out, bending with the weight and, with a guttural "hah!" she dragged it with her back to the living room, careful not to fall on her ass as she went. Who knew all those years of dragging her unconscious mother into the house from the porch would so useful?

She found Bianca staring at her silently, mouth shaped into a small O and her eyes wide as she watched Maggie shove the box towards her with a grin. She looked at the box, frowned, and looked back up at Maggie with clear bafflement, not getting the box or Maggie's silent order.

Ok, time to give some not-so-silent orders. She shoved the box forward a bit more with a foot, sighing. "Open the box. Remove the parts. Spread out the directions. Read the directions. Assemble the object and then we can talk. Need the directions again?"

Bianca, staring at the box, finally got what it was, staring at the picture of the easy to assemble play pen and then she stared up at the calm and collected blonde who stood, not caring at the way Miranda was currently eating her shirt and growling like some savage little beast as she did. "This is…"

"Your birthday present," Maggie finished and sighed, feeling slightly annoyed that it was out in front of her. "It might sound stupid but I remembered back when we were shopping for Miranda's stuff when she was still a little blotch on a picture and you said that you wanted this one the most."

"I remember," Bianca murmured, eyes latched onto the box at her feet, and Maggie squirmed nervously, not liking the intensity there.

"Well, make yourself useful, huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah… of course, give me a second."

It ended up taking even the overly-stressed Bianca less than ten minutes to fit it all together and, setting it in the only spot they could find, Maggie put the child in, where she watched them warily for a moment before turning her attention to the two or three toys Bianca had brought with her. In about three seconds, she was completely content.

Not too worried about the large drool spot on her top, Maggie turned to the couch, finding Bianca sitting there, head in her hands and looking like a puppet with her strings cut. Ignoring the immediate flutter in middle parts, she took a seat on the couch, careful not to sit too close. "I thought that her grandma Erica was taking up too much of her time."

"No. Mom can't… she's too busy losing her mind."

"What?" Okay, sure, not the most brilliant answer but really!

"My mother, Erica Kane?" Sighing, Bianca raised her head, staring at Maggie with eyes that bore large bags. "My mother has apparently suffered a mental breakdown… she is talking in her own little language because she suffered a mental breakdown caused by the shocking discover of her daughter's marriage to Zach Slater."

Bianca was gay… "Oh my God, Bianca!"

Miranda glanced up at the shriek for a moment before going back to her toys, not all that bothered by Maggie's shock and more fascinated by her own bright, colorful new stuff.

Bianca, however, simply gave Maggie a pitiful look, replying, "Yes… Kendall ran off to Vegas with Zach and married him and then Mom found out and she lost it and… everything blew up and Mom is now insane but I don't think she's really insane and neither does Uncle Jack… we both think she's faking it. And then Uncle Jack muttered something really frightening about how Mom had never had to fake him before and she wouldn't start now but I really don't want to think about that right now."

"Oh." She seemed to be saying "oh" a lot today, didn't she? Still, as long as it got the point across… "Bianca… what does Kendall say about all this?"

"I don't know," Bianca murmured quietly. "She doesn't want to talk to me, she's mad at me because we had a fight."

"You had a fight?"

"Mm-hmm… big one… it was like Hiroshima… just… bigger." Bianca continued to sit there, staring down at her hands and it was truly sad. Yet, she found she couldn't just reach out and hold her like she used to. There was a big block now, something heavy and painful where they had once stayed together in their beautiful connection. Something was missing and something was blocked and it really sucked…

"Sorry about your fight with Kendall…"

"Yeah…"

There it was… they had had a few seconds of something and now it was gone again and it really, really hurt. Maggie stared at Bianca, and watched, silently, as Bianca stared back, and she wished she'd look away… "Maggie… um…"

"What?"

"Your lipstick… it's smudged a little bit. Jonathon smudges your lipstick."

"Oh." She stood up, hesitated for a moment and, then left Bianca sitting there, her eyes on Miranda. Fleeing to the bathroom, she locked the door behind her, studying her reflection in the mirror, studying the smudge marks Jonathon had left, the slightest mistake on her lips… like Jonathon.

She hated moments of clarity. She hated the one she'd had in the Florida hotel, realizing that she'd left her Frankie alone with mom without a second thought. And she hated that moment of clarity on the road towards Pennsylvania, realizing that if Bianca could be with Babe like that she didn't really love her. And she hated this moment when she decided that she tired of hurting over Bianca.

That was all she did these days, hurt over Bianca, moon over Bianca and dream about Bianca and think, like some idiot, that Bianca sometimes looked at her with something other than friendship in those big brown eyes. Stepping away from the mirror, she lowered herself to the ground, crossing her legs and listening to the muffled noises of Miranda babbling to her toys.

Bianca had come to her for help with Miranda; she had come to _her_… that meant something, didn't it? No, not really… Erica and Jack were off dealing with things and Kendall was playing wife. She'd had no one else to come to for help. No one but Maggie. Yeah, once again, she was there when there was no one else.

_Babe wasn't really all that nice after all and, hey, look, there's poor, love-sick Mags, still crazy about me, almost willing to streak naked through the Chandler mansion to get my attention… maybe I should throw her a bone?_

Maggie sighed, trying to fight down the sudden shudder of irritation. That was absurd but still, the thought caused a painful wrench inside her, the same kind of gutting that she'd felt when Amy had smacked her in the head with that hots-for-Binks line… she'd done it again…

With a sudden surge of strength, she pulled herself up, facing her reflection in the mirror, fearlessly. Okay, she had been right the first time around. Jonathon didn't ask her for anything else, nothing other than what she was willing to give. He helped her forget and she did the same… he'd told her as much that night, lying at her side, panting…

She helped him forget fists and alcohol and screaming and what it felt like to have to hide in a closet for a day because he couldn't take the chance of going outside where that man could find him… and he helped her forget big brown eyes and how blonde and dark hair had looked mingling on that bed and how much it hurt to find out that Bianca had ripped her heart to shreds for Babe's sake…

It was sick and it was wrong and it was so, so twisted but it was all they had because they couldn't fit in like the others who didn't need to forget…

Maggie swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment and coming to a decision that had been shifting through her mind since she'd felt Amy's arms around her in the car. She was right and she couldn't do this anymore… it just hurt too much and she didn't know how much more she could take.

By the time she went out with her lipstick fixed and her hair tamed, she was offering Bianca a large smile and a hand to hold as she comforted her on her Kendall-less days and how soon they'd make up and bond again. And she waited for Jonathon to come home because he could make this all easier to take.

* * *

Amy Cohen was a heavy sleeper and always had been and most likely always would be. However, she found herself awakened very suddenly with absolutely no idea of what had woken her. She laid there, eyes open, listening, knowing instinctually that it had been something she'd heard that had woken her.

And then she heard it again, a sound that sounded way too much like a footstep… and then another and she waited, violently hating how cheap locks tended to be in cheap hotels. Yeah, it made sense but it still irritated her at the moment.

When something hit the bed, hard, she screamed, twisted, and felt a hand grab at her middle. Throwing herself forward and hitting the floor, she felt pain in her arm from how hard her elbow hit the floor. Damn it… she had to start sleeping with a nightlight so that she could see when maniacs came after her… scrambling and staggering to her feet, she bolted, felt the hands grab again at her, snagging her slacks and yanking.

An hour later, she'd wonder at how calm she'd been while attempting to get away from the someone who'd broken into her hotel room. Maggie would comment that maybe it had been adrenaline or maybe Amy just handled stress and terror well. Amy, in a blanket and sipping bad hospital coffee, would comment that she was just glad she had screamed as loud as she had.

She went down hard, grunting at the force of hitting the floor the way she did… she heard the crash of the someone who'd grabbed her when they hit the table she'd moved earlier to check ads… a hand grabbed her and she screamed again when she felt a hand grab onto her leg, yanking hard.

She twisted, continuing to scream, not even giving a care about how bad she probably sounded and starting kicking out, feet striking skin and muscle and she kicked even harder, and the next one got the point across… even in her state, she heard the grunt of real pain and then the crash of him hitting that table again.

Survival instincts got her on her feet and towards the door, hitting it hard and hands scrambling at the bolt that had been shut after he had come in, tearing at metal and she got it open, throwing herself out and streaking out into light and into a small crowd that had been approaching the hotel room.

Hands caught her, held her steady as she screamed again, mostly just to scream and get the point across…


	9. Chapter Eight

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Eight_

Maggie Stone burst into the Pine Valley hospital just past one a.m. as a pale, shaking mess. In the first pair of jeans she'd found and a turtleneck, she'd shrugged on a jacket before grabbing her cell phone and throwing herself into her car. Tugging fearfully on the scarf looped lightly around her neck, she walked hard and fast towards the nurse signing papers behind the counter.

The nurse apparently wasn't a fan of having terrified young women lunging at her shrieking in the middle of the night but then this was Pine Valley, so who could blame her? "Cohen. Amy Cohen. She's five-foot-eight, black-hair, blue-eyes; she's a Taurus, born in 1983… where is she? She came in with Derek Frye and was with Joe Martin—"

"Maggie!"

She spun away from the desk, watched Anita Santos coming down the hallway at a brisk pace; when Maggie got to her, she grabbed the blonde by the arms, stopping her from running through the hospital in the middle of the night shrieking for Amy like some mother hen, thinking it would work.

"You need to calm down. Joe's been expecting you—"

"Amy?"

"Fine," Anita assured her quickly and, turning, she led Maggie back down the hall. "She looks like she was just shaken and there's a big bruise on her arm from when she hit the floor. Other than that though, she seems fine and Joe says she can be released in the morning."

Maggie was only half-listening, mainly because her eyes had just caught sight of Derek Frye and another officer. Tugging her arm from Anita's hold, she quickened her pace, shoving past the annoyed officer and surging into the room where Amy sat with her legs swinging from the table and her hair in a loose and sad-looking bun.

The next few steps weren't even steps, just a sudden lunge of female weight across tiles and her arms latched around Amy, burying her face in her neck and just standing there, savoring the fact that she could hold her. Beneath her hands, through the shirt and cheap blanket, Amy's skin was warm and she savored that too, swallowing and struggling not to let tears roll down her face.

It took a good minute to calm herself, to sooth the terror and relief and panic that drummed through her veins like some kind of drug; when it faded, dimmed, it left a sluggish ache in its place, something that made her feel heavy and awkward and she pulled from Amy's hold with a defeated noise, turning to Derek.

"Where is he? Can I see him, talk to him… shove a grenade up his ass?"

Derek Frye was not a bad guy and he knew Maggie Stone well enough to be afraid for his own personal safety when she learned this next little fact; sadly, seeing as how he had to, he told her as calmly and soothingly as possible, "We don't have him yet."

There was a long moment of silence as she stared at him, face blank, eyes empty and hands limp at her sides. She turned partly, eyed Amy and then looked back at Derek, taking several steps forward to glare up at him. "'We don't have him yet'? What do you do, sit around in your office, eating bon-bons like police chief Wiggums! She was attacked! As in, someone came after her with every intention of harming her in some way—"

At her back, Amy made a noise of desperation but Maggie simply lifted her hand and, even from where she stood, she heard Amy's mouth snap shut with a sound of click of teeth and a sigh that spoke quite clearly of what it felt like to constantly be protected by Maggie Stone.

"There is someone dangerous in Pine Valley and you don't even have him in custody! That was a locked hotel room! What did he do, pop out of existence and merrily go on his way of attacking women! What the hell were you doing while he was escaping! Did you learn nothing from Michael Cambias!"

"Maggie—"

She twisted away from him, raising a hand to her face and fighting back another wild surge of that blending of terror and relief and panic; she wished that drumming in her ears would quiet and that her spinning would stop. Bianca didn't need to be protected any more but Amy did… Amy did and this time it wasn't a bastard who threw empty bottles at her and locked her out of the house in winter.

And then she felt the hand on her back. It was a hand, just a hand. Four fingers and a thumb and a palm and a wrist but it was so much more and, with her face still pressed into her palm, she breathed, just focused on the way her breath came in and went out of her lungs, focused on the way the hand felt on her back. She could hear Derek going on about their continued searches for the attacker and it didn't matter.

Amy was safe. Amy had gotten out in time and was safe and where she was supposed to be. She drew in a shuddering breath and let it out, took a step away from Derek and closer to Amy, felt the hand slide from the edge of her back to her spine and then around, settling on her shoulder and gripping it with that warmth she had.

At her hip, she felt Amy's long legs, something Frankie had always bitched about, about how Amy had those legs and never used them to get attention while her and Mags were stuck with their short legs that got no attention. It was an absurd memory but there it was, a sudden image in her head and the smell of the alcohol that they'd been cleaning out of the carpet at the time.

Maggie twisted again, took a final step forward and was instantly pulled into a hold, into strong arms that locked around her and held her and she relented, easing into the hold, leaning her head against the shoulder… behind her, Derek continued to make excuses, continued to talk and it just didn't matter.

And then the body she was resting against shifted the slightest bit, and Maggie took a moment to rub her face against the fabric of the blanket and the shirt, rub away any moisture before turning the smallest bit to see Joe Martin entering with a calm smile and soothing eyes.

Joe Martin was a soothing man and Maggie, still partly in Amy's hold, was suddenly intensely joyful to see him there and felt some of that pain in her chest ease. He set the pile of papers on the counter, turning to Derek who stood staring blankly. "Now, then, it looks like I missed some drama here. Derek, I assume you have that man in custody?"

"No, Dr. Martin, he's still out there." Boy, was there a quality of a bruised boy there, a kid who had lost his big brother's toy and was now trying to make excuses.

"He got out past the crowd Ms. Cohen gathered that easily?" Not accusatory or nasty or angry, just curious and Maggie was dazedly aware of Amy's hands on her shoulders, fingers pressing rhythmically into her muscle and skin… maybe she should go to Joe for lessons of how to stay calm in the face of stupidity?

"Actually, Dr. Martin, he slipped in and out of Ms. Cohen's hotel room by her window. The lock was jimmied and he got in; while she was outside and before the crowd went in, he slipped out and took off." He squirmed the slightest bit at Joe's calm look and the way he drummed fingers across the counter and finally looked away. "We have the entire town on lockdown… we can't have some maniac running around, attacking women."

"Then maybe you should be out there with them?"

"Yes… yes, of course… ahem, Stone, Ms. Cohen?" At their blank looks, he turned and left, shutting the door behind him and leaving Maggie and Amy alone with Joe; eyeing them warmly, he stepped forward and Maggie scampered out of Amy's hands, feeling drained and sluggish and not hating the idea of stretching out on the warm tiles and sleeping right there.

"Maggie, Ms. Cohen is in fine hands."

"Are you sure?" She hesitated, hands clenched at her sides, watching as Joe started flipping through some of the papers with a tilted head and pleasant smile. "I mean, she was attacked and, what if she has a concussion or some inner bleeding?"

"No, Maggie. You're friend is in fine shape. In fact, I have no doubt she's in better shape than whoever tried to get his hands on her." He looked up, offered a smile to Maggie. "Amy here apparently rabbit-kicked him with more strength that he expected her to possess. I would not advise her to go back to that hotel room though."

"God no!" Maggie surged forward, not even caring about the way Amy sighed in exhaustion. "Absolutely not! What if she hadn't gotten away and he'd gotten a real hold on her! No, she needs to get a real place with a real window and a real lock and if she tries to fight me on this, I'll shove that grenade I have saved for that attacker up her ass instead."

"Maggie, I told you, I'm looking for—"

"Amy, I could not give a flying rat's ass about what you want right now." She looked at Joe, held up a palm in desperation. "Am I wrong here?"

"There has to be a couple somewhere willing to take me in!"

"Can you believe this?" She gestured angrily towards Amy, who stuttered at the sudden display of anger. "She's just been attacked and she still refuses to let me help her with the apartment issue."

"I want to find boarders, Maggie, not some unfeeling people who… don't feel."

"Oh, for…"

"Excuse me!" The bark of surprising force turned both pairs of eyes toward him, and he beamed, taking a few steps closer to Amy and Maggie. "You were talking about boarders? Elderly boarders who'd be kind enough to open their home to a young woman? Who would like to offer up rooms that their children no longer need?"

* * *

Jonathon eased in, eyes flitting across the slightly wrecked apartment, where Maggie had run out just a few minutes before, shaking and pale. He sighed, deeply, eyes closed for a moment as he contemplated his ability to get into the bathroom. Finally, with another sigh, this one deeper, he started across the living room, stepping quietly into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

"_Jonathon, this is just too bad. We can't hide here, okay, baby? It's too dangerous here and they'll find us and they'll drag us back kicking and screaming and we won't be able to stop them… you have to trust me on this, okay?"_

His jacket was shrugged off, dropped to the floor as a pile of leather and he stepped closer to the bathroom mirror, fingers catching the edge of his black shirt and tugging it up, peeling it off over his head and dropping it as well. _Shit_… the marks were already swelling, turning from red to a darker, deeper purple.

"_No, no… we can find Ryan and he'll take care of us… he said he'll take care of us, Erin! He promised us that he would be there and protect us and you have to believe that like I do because he keeps his promises!"_

He rubbed a hand across a small splotch of dark color, twisting just enough to glance over the long angry marks from where his back had hit that damn table not once but twice… it was already hurting and he grimaced at his next deep breath. What kind of woman kicked like that, damn it!

"_He doesn't care about us, baby, he never did and he still doesn't… where has he been the last three months, when we both needed him so much, so badly? He's off somewhere else, sowing his wild oats, probably knocking up woman up and down the Eastern seaboard!"_

He bit his lip, exhaled slowly as he stared down at the marks, remembering how angry Erin always got, how those sweet eyes turned hateful and angry but the pain in her voice gave it all away and she'd simply stand there, this little girl in a woman's body, desperately clinging to anything she could.

"_Erin… no… please don't talk like that… please, Erin, he loves us and we can find him, okay? It can all be okay and we can be okay… we can be fixed and Ryan can do it… he'll give us what we need."_

Jonathon let out his next breath as an angry groan, something low and deep and the pain it brought simply brought on more anger for him, more that danced in his veins like some perverted ballerina on some kind of perverted high. His hands held the cold porcelain on the sink, gripped it in a firm hold as he stared at the mark across his stomach, where he'd stumbled as he dragged himself out of that damn window of hers… his…

"_No…"_

Twisting, turning from his reflection, ignoring the fear in his own gaze, the weakness that came from just a few of her good kicks… he checked his shirt, and found no blood and the same on his jacket and he sighed gratefully, letting the shirt drop into the hamper. His hands found his jeans, started working on tugging his belt off.

"_Erin…"_

And his head jerked up when his cell phone rang. Grimacing, he reached behind him, unhooked it from the back of his jeans with an exhausted sigh and checked the number, feeling a surge of relief at finding her number there, her name spelled out in squared letters across blue light. "Maggie."

Immediately, concern filled her voice, that tenderness that she rarely gave him and always gave Bianca whenever she walked in front of her, tossing dark hair and batting big brown eyes, making Maggie think she might have a chance. "Jonathon… baby, what's wrong?"

"_Jonathon, baby, you're wrong… if we dropped off the face of the Earth, disappeared, wound up in a ditch in two months as rotting bodies… he wouldn't give a damn because we don't matter… when you were younger, yeah, it was convenient to love you but now?"_

A shudder ran through him, raced up his spine and caused pain to spread across his back as a series of sudden flashes… it took everything he had not to cry out… she'd taken him by surprise and now it was paying him back for his lack of common sense… if she couldn't handle her, how was she supposed to handle him? "Maggie… where are you… you're not here."

"_Erin, you have to stop saying these things, you don't remember him… he protected us, protected me for so long and he did so much to help us…"_

A moment of silence, hesitancy and she finally replied, a soft murmur of words that reminded him of a lull… or maybe a lullaby… hmm… so that's where the word 'lullaby' came from… "Amy's in the hospital; some crazy bastard tried to do God only knows what to her but she got him a few times before she got away."

"_Get in the car and buckle your seatbelt and just stay there while I get everything ready. Do it and do as I say, Jonathon."_

She had no idea… holding the phone between shoulder and ear, he got back to the work of getting his belt off and to the floor between his finger starting struggling with the buttons; he started working his jeans off, ignoring how much it hurt him as he did. "Well, is she okay? She isn't hurt is she? Hurt in some way that can't be healed?"

"_Erin…"_

He heard her sigh, heard a tired noise that changed into a yawn mid-way through and he half-wished she was home so he could put her to bed and tuck her in and take care of her the way Bianca didn't care to… yeah, she cared so fucking much… cared enough to play with Maggie like she was some toy and smiled the whole time like some saint she wasn't… "Just shaken up… freaked out a little bit so I'm gonna wait until Derek brings her bags and I see her safe at Joe's."

"_Stop fighting me… I have to protect you and you're not making it easy… we have to go, we have to get away from here and away from him before he wakes up and realizes what we did…"_

He kicked the denim away, turned and got the soap off the sink, ignoring the way his back looked and his eyes looked so empty right now… he wanted Maggie right now, desperately, and he swallowed silently, bending to turn on the hot water. "I can't believe that someone would go after Amy; I mean, she seems like such an amazing young woman and I can't believe anyone could hate her… maybe this guy was after someone else?"

"_Erin… please…"_

"All that matters is that she's safe now and later, after I wake up, I'm gonna help her get her stuff to her new place." A pause, a silence before she continued softly, "You sound like you're in pain… are you okay? Do you want me to come home, baby?"

"_Don't disappoint me, Jonathon."_

For long moments he watched the water pound the porcelain, watched steam rise and it was thankfully beginning to mist over his twisted reflection, making it easier for him to breathe in the rapidly warming bathroom… "No, you should be with Amy… she must have been terrified and she shouldn't have to be alone right now while she's getting over that."

"Are you sure, Jonathon? I mean, Amy would understand."

Maggie, too good and beautiful for someone like him but the thought of her leaving made his throat close and his insides ache and he swallowed again, a small shiver racing through him. And she was too good for Montgomery, who was lying with her big brown eyes and he could see some lie, see it with that terrifying dark hollow where something was missing… she was lying to Maggie and he knew it and he hated her for it…

And now he was lying too… "Maggie, you should be with Amy right now and be with someone who cares about you… I want you to stay with her. Besides, I'm not available to be there for you right now… something came up with Erin and she needed me to help her tomorrow so in the morning, I already have a flight planned."

"Oh…" She hesitated and he could feel hurt through the soft sigh she made… "You'll call me when you get to Nova Scotia, right? Check in, baby?"

"I swear, Maggie. As soon as the plane lands, I'll call you and share anything that comes up. I swear that you'll hear any news." He paused, hating how easily the lies came, how easily the lies always came and he wished he was inside her, forgetting the things that only she could help him forget. "I love you, Maggie."

"I love you, too." Words without meaning, words that meant nothing but sex between them when things got so painful and so hard and so raw that all they do was move together and forget what was too painful to let see the light of day… and it worked, it gave them both those few moments of that blessed absence of ache and hurt that they almost worshipped. And then he heard nothing but that damn dial tone and she was gone.

He stared at the shower for long moments, watched as steam billowed up in white waves, making him think of smoke and what smoke looked like against a starless night sky… he raised the phone, dialed in Erin's number and started making his plans, which hopefully would turn out better than his last ones.

_

* * *

Fingers ran through her hair, laced through dark tresses as fingertips ran across skin the slightest bit, nails the smallest bit sharp as she continued her slow play. "I'm so glad you let your hair grow out. Don't get me wrong, I liked it short you know but I'm not going to lie. This length is just perfect and it's just right for me to play with."_

_Bianca just smiled, didn't bother to respond because she didn't have to. Beneath her fingers, the fabric of Maggie's skirt was light and airy and she shifted her hand, sliding the material across a leg and enjoying the feel of heat through the softness._

"_You look a little bit sleepy, Binks. When was the last time you slept?"_

"_Weeks… months… I don't remember…"_

_A hand trailed her neck, fluttered across her collarbone with a heat that made her insides melt and she shivered softly, resisting the urge to arch up into Maggie's touch like a feline, sate herself so easily under soft fingers and palms… "Why don't you let yourself sleep, huh? Let me take care of you?"_

"_I can't…"_

"_Why?" she asked and she kissed the spot her fingers had just touched, breaths of heat making her shiver excitedly again. "Why won't you let me do anything other than rub you neck?"_

"_Are you tired of this yet, Maggie?"_

_She reached out, turned her head to regard her with this sad sort of smile that made Bianca swallow painfully; fingers traced her cheeks and she wished she didn't look so sad… "I was always tired of this, Bianca. I just hid it well."_

_This was a dream and Bianca knew it. And she didn't care because this was all she had. Dreams of her and Maggie on picnics like this, stretched out together across a blanket. Dreams of Maggie and Miranda, her two favorite girls, sitting together and bonding and babbling about things that Maggie didn't understand but she didn't care and kept up their little conversation._

_She turned her head back to Maggie's lap, closed her eyes again and refused to think of everything that hurt and focused on Maggie's sad fingers across her skin and through her hair… this was all that she had left and she savored this._


	10. Chapter Nine

_AN: Remember what I said in the first part… David has no Hobilly for a daughter… which means, my lovelies, he had no part in the baby-switch… remember that, peeps! Anyway… enjoy!_

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Nine_

_Maggie disliked the fact that the curve of Bianca's stomach that would one day be a daughter had to be hidden all the time. It was an odd sort of annoyance that Bianca had to hide her baby and Maggie couldn't figure out why it annoyed her so much. Now, more than anything, Maggie wished that Bianca wasn't wearing that bulky winter coat of hers, hiding that growing curve of a belly._

_She also wished she could wipe that mustard off the corner of Bianca's mouth but Lena could be meeting up with them any minute and, oh boy, Maggie didn't need any more of that today. Shaking herself and trying to bring her attention away from the dab of yellow, Maggie followed Bianca's line of sight, her eyes settling on what she was staring at, way up on the top shelf._

_Bianca looked like she was, to put it quiet simply, completely in love… and, Maggie thought smugly, she certainly didn't look at Lena that way, now did she? This brief surge of excitement was quickly squashed by the knowledge that Bianca had yet to look at her like that either. Okay, there went that single second of joy, huh?_

_With renewed interest, Maggie looked at the lower shelves, noting with a flicker of irritation that those shelves weren't stocked with the item… the last one seemed to be way up in the higher planes of the atmosphere. It probably looked high enough to a tall gal like Binks but for Maggie… she could actually see the clouds drifting around the smooth box._

_Luckily for Maggie, she was not afraid of heights._

_She studied Bianca with warm eyes for a few moments, watching the excited glitter in her gaze, the gaze of a Kane woman who had decided that she wanted something. Kendall or Erica simply would have made half-naked shop boys get it for them and made extra sure that the shop boys were all hot and sweaty too._

_Bianca, on the other hand, would simply stand here and gaze up at the box lovingly, not wanting to be a bother to anyone like the sweet female she was. Maggie, on the other, _other_ hand, was no sweet female and, grinning like a vixen, she tapped the taller girl on the arm, getting two extremely nervous blinks as she reached up and hooked strands of dark hair behind her ears._

"_Do you want that?"_

_A instant flush of pink and she shook her head, hair shifting and moving across her shoulders as she did. "No, Maggie, I don't want it, not really, I mean… I'll find something nice for her."_

"_Bianca." Her slightly sharp tone made the brunette fall silent, mouth closing quickly as her eyes widened slightly. "Bianca? This is one of those easy questions… do you want that for the baby?"_

_A hesitation as she studied her silently, lips pressed together and her eyes still wide. Her hands locked together before her, fingers lacing nervously, and then she gave up, sighing and drooping in the same moment. "Yes," she murmured quietly and then she frowned, looking baffled as the smaller woman set her purse on the floor and then shrugged out of her coat, laying it on top of the bag. "Maggie? Wait, what are you doing?"_

"_Making the baby happy," Maggie chirped before, easily darting away from Bianca's sudden grab for her, she stepped up closer to the shelves and, without a second thought, she started climbing up to grab what Bianca wanted. If Bianca wanted this box of parts, Bianca would get this box of parts!_

"_Maggie!" she hissed, looking around at the labyrinth, eyes nervously darting for any danger of someone coming to catch Maggie in her cat burglar act. "Maggie!" she hissed more loudly, and began stomping a foot angrily. "Maggie! Maggie, get down here right this instant!"_

_Maggie ignored her, locking her arms around an edge and grabbing the edge of the box, dragging it closer with a grin; okay, fine, she was enjoying how much caring was in Bianca's high-pitched whisper but that wasn't why she was now so focused on getting Bianca what she wanted… besides, it wasn't just Binks who wanted this, the baby wanted it to and, hey, Maggie lived to serve, didn't she?_

_Gripping the box tightly, she started climbing down, resting the box on each shelf as she passed by; finally, her feet touched the ground and she hopped down the final few inches, holding the box like a trophy in Bianca's direction. "Ta-da!" she sang happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet, grinning happily at her best friend… she was so proud of herself, at least until Lena's slightly angry voice reached her ears._

_Even as the grin dried up on her face, Lena grabbed her by the arm, spinning her and she found herself staring up into lethal eyes. "What did you think you were doing up there? Didn't you hear how frightened Bianca sounded? Do you honestly think she or the baby needs the added stress?"_

_Maggie managed a single "um" before Lena rushed past her, grabbing Bianca by the shoulders and leaning forward and Maggie fought the urge to roll her eyes, still holding the box that held the play yard before her like a kind of shield against the Polish Terror… please, that accent was sooooo fake! Nobody from Poland talked like that!_

"_Bianca?"_

_Half-way past her, the brunette turned and set a hand on Maggie's arm, smiling slightly. "You… you didn't have to do that, Mags… look, I'll see you when Lena and I finish dinner…"_

_And then she was gone and Maggie just stared after her, standing stupidly with the box in her hands, probably looking extremely dumb and needy and dorky, having a crush on her pregnant best friend… and wanting to cry in the middle of the baby aisle… "Ma'am?"_

_She looked over, stared for a moment at the acne-cursed teenage boy blushing at her glance… "What?"_

"_Are you gonna get that or do I need to put it back on the shelf?"_

_She looked at him for a few more moments before glancing back down at the box with the image of the grinning cherub face, at the drool-decorated grin, and sighed. "Yeah… um, ring it up for me…"_

* * *

When she got home just past noon, Maggie was so beyond exhausted she could barely walk and her hand was shaking as she fought to get the key into the lock, stifling a yawn as she did. Finally staggering in, she leaned against the door for a minute, staring at the sunlit apartment and contemplating how far away the bedroom seemed to be.

Joe had had to force her to leave Amy, who had been working on her luggage one second and then slumped, snoring, over her luggage the next, mouth agape, completely out. He'd driven her home and gotten her on the elevator but she'd refused to let him follow any farther.

She was vaguely confused about his too-casual-to-be-casual comments about David's dating life these days but maybe it was just her exhaustion? Now, with a grimace, she forced herself off the door, holding onto the couch as she passed it and then circled it, only dimly aware that Jonathon had cleaned up before he left.

Her bag was pulled from around her neck, dropped to the floor, quickly followed by her jacket. Yawning again, she sank down onto the couch, pulling the blanket off the back as she did. Tucking her legs up, she wrapped the blanket around herself, staring at the play yard that she hadn't been willing to give to Bianca yet. When she woke up, she'd be dropping it off.

She remembered, clearly, the night she had lost Miranda… she remembered coming home and, when it was silent, she'd snuck to her car and dug the box out of the bottom of the trunk, where she had hidden it until it was time to give to her favorite young Mommy and baby daughter… her daughter, if she let her walls down that moment before sleep…

She'd cried, silently, box in front of her, gripping it with white-knuckled hands, wet tracks decorating her pretty face… every time she almost stopped, something else came back and shifted forward into her mind… sometimes it was a memory of a kick against her palm while she and Bianca pigged out on ice cream and pickles in the middle of the night and sometimes it was the memory of getting that pink dress that Miranda would never wear…

And then she'd hidden it away again, unwilling to take it back, take back any memory of the baby she'd never gotten to hold or love… it had just stayed there and, every so often, she'd brought it out, looked down at it and cried some more, but only when she was alone, when nobody saw her weak and wanting fro what wasn't hers to begin with… she wasn't Lena… that little girl never would have called her mommy or mama or mom…

Yet, she had grieved, hadn't she? She'd cried and sobbed silently, head in her hands, feeling her insides shred into pieces, some hollow place where that little girl should have been, where she was supposed to give her what she hadn't been allowed to have…

And there it was, an empty play yard, and the only mark that Miranda had been there was a splotch of drool that had dried into a stain… she was supposed to be sitting in there, chewing toys and babbling in her perfect little language while she watched her mama and Maggie babble on about their own things…

Sleep was heavy and thick when it hit her and she blessed it when the pain faded away as a dim shadow, leaving only dark memories that faded into happier dreams of her and Amy, blushing as they shared dreams of being a doctor and saving lives and dreams of having a dog and selling things that people need and teaching people Amy's favorite things…

* * *

Amy woke to the most amazing, beautiful, wonderful smell she'd ever smelled… opening her eyes with a massive grin, she sniffed once, twice, beaming quietly… Owen had never cooked and her cooking skills were as bad as Micaela's driving skills… hence, she had absolutely none.

Resisting the urge to run downstairs and set up an altar to Ruth Martin, she lay on the bed that Maggie had apparently dragged her onto before leaving. Still in her jeans and tank top, she was a wrinkled mess and her hair, she noted with a tug of fingers, was apparently a bird nest.

She staggered, grimacing as she rolled forcefully to her feet and swayed for a moment before gazing around at the wreckage of the large bedroom she'd now call home. It should have felt strange, actually, being in a house like this but it simply wasn't… it actually felt right and that little fact made her grin to herself.

Of course, when she heard the sharp rap of knuckles against the door, she stepped forward, opened the door to view Joe Martin. Stepping back, she let him in and he looked around, smiling slightly at the lack of order. "Don't worry… this will all be picked up and cleaned…"

"I'm sure it will." He nodded, turned back to find her standing with a happy smile and her arms crossed over her chest. He handed her a worn blue robe laying half on the floor and she immediately tugged it on, closing it and sensing him grow less nervous as he did. "All dressed!"

"Good, good…" he paused for a moment, seeming to consider his next words carefully. "We do, of course, have some ground rules in this household."

"Of course," she agreed, nodding furiously and he smiled again, looking amused by her simply joy of being given rules… it was a refreshing difference from dealing with Tad all those years and he selected his words again. "I expect my wife to be respected and for you to treat my family with respect."

"Yes, sir," she replied immediately and it was only the happy glow on her face that kept him from thinking she was being cheeky with him… "I understand sir…"

"I work most mornings and Ruth spends all her mornings in the kitchen, so I'm not all that worried about you taking me or Ruth by surprise when you take care of your own personal issues. We also like to dinner together as a family and you are, of course, invited to all of our meals. God knows, Ruth loves feeding people who like to be fed." He looked her over, cocked an eyebrow. "She'll no doubt decide that you need to fattened up…"

"This is my weight… I was born skinny and weak looking… I'm waify…" Her voice had a slightly annoyed quality and he smiled yet again, unable to stop himself. "Ruth won't agree with that and you need to know that… if you ever need to escape from a feeding, call me or Tad and we'll get you out."

"Tad?"

"My son… adopted son, actually… he's been busy lately, he's in Switzerland right now, apparently and has decided not to answer my calls. However, I have no doubt that he'll be accepting and will also be of help if you need any."

"Okey-dokey, Loki."

He stared and she blushed, looking away… "It's just one of my strange and unusual sayings… Maggie makes fun of them but I hope you're nicer than when's being bitchy… not that she's always bitchy, because, you know, she isn't… she just has her moods… sometimes she gets really moody when she's hurt or in pain so you have to be careful…" she trailed off, another flush of pink rising in her neck and cheek.

"I have a few more rules but I'll let you get cleaned up… Ruth made a pot roast to celebrate the return of people who apparently need to be fed."

"She's a feeder."

He patted her shoulder as he passed, laughing, "You have no idea, dear."

_

* * *

Nova Scotia…_

Erin was still, eyes on him as he slept, leaning back on the couch, jet lag having up with him like some great beast and hitting him hard. Eyes closed, head back, he breathed deeply and calmly, a steady sound that calmed her after everything…

In a pair of jeans and a warm brown sweater, she stood with her arms crossed, staring down at his figure and enjoying the few moments of quite stillness. The house around them was locked down, windows and doors shut and bolted as soon as he got in after her. His bags sat near the front door and she had bandaged the bruises he hadn't been able to reach.

Amazing how she could feel safe here, with him, and yet she did…

Erin closed her eyes, sighing deeply as she drew in the breath, holding it as she contemplated what he had done… hadn't worked and he hadn't gotten her… and all he had to show for it was a back and chest full of bruises and marks… he hadn't gotten his hands on her and, damn it, he had promised he would…

Her eyes snapped open at that sudden flare of anger, cringing and hating that flicker of fury… no, not Jonathon's fault… she shuddered as she exhaled harshly, and then opened her arms, stretching them up and over her head, listening to the pop and crack of bones and muscles that hadn't been moved in over an hour.

When her arms dropped, she found deep eyes studying him, alert despite just waking… they stared at one another, studied each other and listened to the silence… "I did it wrong… I disappointed you, Erin."

She inhaled and then exhaled, considering words that he always needed to hear to be okay and be able to deal… stepping forward quickly on bare feet, she folded herself up on the couch, and laid her head on his thigh, closing her eyes and feeling a hand drop to her shoulder very carefully, not hurting the ache that always started with cold.

"You could never disappoint me, baby."


	11. Chapter Ten

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Ten_

Maggie found the invitations to the reopening of Zach's casinos—or, rather, legally, Kendall's casinos—in the mail slot when she was ready to go drop off the play yard. Pulling the thick envelopes open, she tugged out the invitations, reading the elegant black script and absorbing Zach request for her and Jonathon to join them at the reopening and, with a an odd sort of amusement, she read the offer to bring a guest.

Jesus, was there anything Zach Slater didn't know?

Slipping them into her bag, she hefted the play pen to her shoulder, heading out of the apartment and to the car. Her calls to Bianca had gone unanswered and she'd finally decided to stop worrying about stealing a few minutes with the Munchkin. She was in a sour mood and Bianca ignoring her calls wasn't helping.

By the time she reached Bianca's place, she was barely able to hear above the pounding in her ears of her heart beat, a roaring drumbeat that made her breathing come quicker than it should and, it was amazing how apprehension of seeing Bianca and wanting Bianca could make her react in such similar ways…

Her hand, curved into a fist, hesitated above the door, and she bit her lip… and, with a sudden surge of strength, she thought back to her face in the mirror, thought back to the certainty with which she had made her decision… talking a breath, she knocked once, a sharp rap of knuckles before leaving the door and Bianca and Miranda.

_

* * *

She was drowning, thrashing as she kicked at the hand around her ankle, watching blonde hair swirl beneath her with the movements, ripple and shift with each desperate kick to get to the surface, fill her lungs with air and get a hold of herself, some grasp on the little pieces that were missing._

_She couldn't get away… she couldn't escape from the begging… Babe's pleas to keep her lies and keep her secrets… it hadn't been all that hard to keep her head over the surface, water that was black and hard, beating across her in waves that grew rapidly more forceful. She'd stayed away from the something beneath her, something that clawed at her ankle._

"_I can't lose my son… I can't go through that… please Bianca…"_

_But then she had gone under and had found herself completely helpless, a cacophony filling her head as that something finally got her, locked around her middle with raw strength and, by the time she'd gotten away from that hold, she'd been too deep under to get back up…_

_Again, she felt that hand above, a brush of fingertips through fingertips and she felt a thrill of excitement until she was dragged down again and panic filled her, tightening around her and making her ache… when she got up enough to reach again, there was nothing to reach for and she grasped at emptiness, fingers sliding through the water and closing in defeat._

"_Babe… JR won't know from me…"_

_It was a crushing weight on her, inside her, something that made it so hard to fight. What was the point now? She remembered Kendall's face, the look in her eyes when she'd snapped to get the Hell out of her condo. The only time Kendall acknowledged her was when she came by to see Miranda._

Kendall saw something and knew Bianca too well and she could see it in her older sister's eyes, see it in the sharpness there. Bianca was hiding something and Kendall knew it… the fact that Bianca had been dumb enough to defend Babe during their argument had made it even worse and Kendall had exploded, startling Zach out of his silent watch of the two women—

Something woke Bianca from her sleep, jerked her into full awareness and she choked on her next breath, staring up at the ceiling before sitting up on the sofa, eyes searching for Miranda and finally spotting the sleeping shape before her, laid out on her mat. Realizing the noise that had woken her, she pushed herself up, headed to the door and opened it, peering out.

Pausing on the threshold, she could hear the noise of footsteps fading away down the hall and stepped out but there was nothing and she rubbed her face, trying to ignore the slight touch of something deceptively soft and feminine in the air. She recognized it, very easily, after so long living with her and knowing what kind of different things she wore.

Even without spotting the folded play yard, Bianca would have known who it was and, working to ignore the slight effect it had on her, she turned away from where Maggie had raced off, away from her scent. Lifting the gift, she stepped back into her place, closing the door behind her.

Bianca was still drowning, even with the gift in her hands and with her daughter before her… she was still drowning and had no idea what to do about it.

* * *

Most of her stuff unpacked and her stomach filled with food, Amy headed across the wet grass, fingers nervously picking at the end of her bright pink scarf, one she'd gotten for her sixteenth birthday from her favorite Stone girl. Passing between the stones, she thought about how ironic it was that the weather could clear up just as she had entered the cemetery. 

She was still wired from the entire incident at the Martin house, at trying to sort out the entire twisted Chandler/Cortlandt/Martin family and also trying to understand how a woman who had gone off a cliff almost three years before could suddenly pop up looking happy and healthy and extremely motherly.

More unnerving than that was how easy most of the giant group had taken the news. If somebody suddenly ran into her at one of these places and started telling her that he was her long-lost father, yeah, Amy doubted she'd handle it that well. It was just a hunch but still…

When she finally spotted the stone with then name "Stone" on it, she gave a twisted snort at yet more irony… Frankie would have laughed her ass off at that, smirked and chirped that it was just further proof of her end purpose in life. A Stone buried under a big hunk of stone… god, what a world.

Amy hesitated where she stood, staring down at the grass before her feet; she finally went around it, hoping she wasn't stepping on Frankie as she did. Wouldn't want to walk all over Frankie, would she? It felt strange, and it finally sank in when her fingertips touched the smooth rock, brushed the words and watched more droplets roll down to pool beneath.

There was a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the grave, and, dropping her hands to her knees, she bent down, noticing the surprising freshness. Must have been there just before the rain started, huh? She was hesitant to touch them. She knew way too much about how energies in a cemetery were sacred but her curiosity got the better of her and, with a slight wince, she finally lifted them up, studied the bundle of flowers

_Frankie would have had a ball bragging about these_, she mused with a sad sort of twinge inside her chest. Laying it down quickly, she straightened, laying her palms flat against her thighs and offering a slight smile to the rock. "You can probably tell that I'm not really sure why I'm here."

She stared down at her feet for a few minutes, watching the way the wet grass glittered. It was beautiful, the perfect day for a nice outdoors ritual but she was too drained, and too confused to try anything like that… she had learned not to mess with those when she felt like this.

"Somebody brought you flowers. Isn't it funny how people only care about you when it's too late for you to remind them that they were total jackasses before? It's like some great cosmic joke, right?" Frankie didn't answer, of course she didn't, and Amy dropped back onto her ass, not caring how the rain soaked into her jeans.

"I just didn't want you to think that I didn't care at all. You and I didn't get along and I wish we had, for Maggie. I think it hurt her, you know, us fighting over her all the time. Stupid now, because, clearly, you only had so much time with her and I keep wondering if I stole it… did I steal it, Frankie?"

There was only a silence and she stared down thoughtfully, studying her fingernails and aware of how shockingly quiet it was around the grave, where the remains of Frankie were laying under all that dirt like she was some kind of cheap fertilizer… it felt wrong to Amy and she bit her lip.

"She's a good listener."

Amy turned, and then blushed slightly as Maggie took the last few steps toward the grave and nodded at the stone. "I called up Joe and he said you had asked for directions to the cemetery." She looked at Amy, crinkled her eyes slightly. "My brilliant mind connected the pieces and I came here and, what do you know, I was right." She paused, cocked her head. "Do you realize your ass is going to be soaked?"

"You're a true genius, Maggie, really… You grace me with your presence," Amy laughed and the blonde nodded to herself, eyes straying back to the stone and the name carefully engraved. For long moments there was silence, Maggie staring at the marker and Amy peering up at the surviving Stone twin.

"Did something happen at the Martin house? I mean, Joe sounded kind of shaky on the phone." Maggie turned away from Frankie's grave, crouched in front of Amy and studied her intensely, the amusement in her gaze dampened by the remains of the young woman so close to them.

"Pine Valley is as exciting as you said it was."

Maggie raised her eyebrows and Amy finally blurted out, "Do you know Dixie Cooney? Blonde, blue-eyed, short as you are but with a better figure… do you know her?"

She got a slightly annoyed look as Maggie set her hands on her knees, looking thoughtful as she shifted her attention towards the distance. "I knew her. Her son was one of the last people to see Frankie alive. She wasn't bad. Sometimes she could be a bit saintly but she was good people."

"She showed up a few hours ago at Mr. Martin's house with her daughter and her son. Everything went wonky and Tad Martin, he's Mr. Martin's son, started muttering about how people in this town has Lazarus-it is and then Ms. Cooney started going on and on about how everything was still foggy and that she wanted her daughter to stop climbing the walls. And then Micaela showed up to visit me and JR said that if another person came into their reunion that he hated, he'd run off and hide in Switzerland with Ms. Cooney—"

"Amy!" Maggie cried and she suddenly had a hand clapped over her mouth, and found that, at some point, Maggie had fallen back onto her ass. Huge brown eyes stared at Amy as she babbled some things that she couldn't understand. "Amy… if this is a joke, it is not funny."

All she could do was mumble against Maggie's hand, shaking her head and giving her a slightly annoyed look.

"Oh my god…" Maggie whispered softly and then she suddenly jumped up, yanking up Amy with her, and not even seeming to notice the yelp of pain when her arm was nearly ripped out of its socket. "Maggie—"

"Come on!" she simply shrieked and broke into a run and the only thing that kept Amy from falling flat on her face was the fact that her legs were just a little longer than Maggie's. "We have to go if this is true! I have to see it for myself!" And before she knew it, Amy had been shoved into Maggie's car.

* * *

_Nova Scotia…_

He slid his fingertips along the brim of his baseball cap, leaning forward in his seat to focus when the front door opened and she stepped out. Bare feet scampered down the sidewalk and her robe, open, revealed a fine figure clad in tank and shorts, long legs striding easily; red hair hung in a loose ponytail, open strands framing her face.

At his side sat the information he had gleaned from long hours in the library, gathered up into notes and notebooks, all sitting in one perfect stack. His eyes remained on her though, watching her bend down and crouch, seize the paper at her feet and straighten, studying it.

And then she was gone, shutting her door behind her and he sighed, dropping his head back and rubbing his forehead thoughtfully. Had she called him back to her home or had he come by pure instinct? Either way, it had immediately become more difficult and he drummed fingertips along the steering wheel.

Finally, with a lethal noise low in his throat, he started the car, pulling away from the curb and heading away from Erin Lavery's door, keeping himself from looking over with only his strongest willpower. The plans had been altered, just a bit, the slightest bit but they weren't changed, not by a long shot.

* * *

"So you head back in a few days?" Erin asked, entering the kitchen and dropping the paper in front of Jonathon before passing him to open the door of the fridge. Wearing his clothes from the night before, with pillow marks still across his face, he started flipping through the paper.

"And you and that guy are coming back with me."

"Yeah… that guy," Erin muttered, feeling an insane surge of dislike at even the mention of Ken. Pulling out the eggs and the cheese, she moved to the stove, unhooking a pan from over her head and setting it down. The stove went on and she focused on whipping the eggs with a fork, listening to the rustle of paper behind her.

"Erin." The sharp quality in his voice caught her attention, pulled it away from the eggs cooking in front of her and she turned half-way, finding him staring at her. He jumped up, and she found a page shoved into her face. "Erin… who's this woman?"

"That?" She knew the face immediately, recognized it from the news and she pulled the paper out of his hold, turning back to the stove. "That's the problem, Jonathon…"

"Maybe he had nothing to…" He trailed off and she didn't need to see his face to know it had finally gone blank and she continued to tease at the eggs, listening to him back up, lean against the table and she heard his sigh. "We need to tell Ryan—"

And the anger was there, the only real hate she had in her system, the only real fury that was connected to someone. She spun, biting back a shriek as she did and pointed at him with the plastic spatula. "No… we don't tell him, you don't tell him… he doesn't care, Jonathon. He doesn't give a damn!"

"Erin—" She loved him, she loved Jonathon more than life itself, she would die for him if it ever came to that and they both knew it, and they both knew that it went both ways, knew that he would give his life for her. But he was wrong, he was wrong about Ryan. When she spoke again, her voice was hollow, tears shining in her eyes as she desperately bit back the anger.

"Ryan does not care. He left us to defend for ourselves. He left a little boy to protect a little girl and then he comes up to you and grins and laughs and says 'sorry about that' and you forgive him! You love him if you want, go ahead, I get that you do but, please, Jonathon, don't you dare defend him to me… not you."

She turned away as fast as he could, gripping plastic in her fist and noticing with annoyance that her eggs were burning… quickly going back to her cooking, she focused on them, on keeping them useful as she reached up and pulled a plate down, dumping the eggs onto the plate. She snatched the pan off the stove, set it aside and shoved the food at Jonathon, fleeing the kitchen.

"Erin…"

But she ignored him, stalking up the stairs to her room and locking the door behind her… it didn't matter anymore…


	12. Chapter Eleven

_AN: Lyrics below are from Cold play's "The Scientist". As always, all replies and constructive criticism are appreciated! The following flashback is a little bit of what went on before the Polish Troll decided to interrupt Bianca and Mags' baby bonding… have I mentioned that she really is a weenie?_

_**

* * *

Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Eleven_

"_Are you sure you're not lost?"_

_Maggie shot Bianca a peeved look, studying the brunette and putting as much consternation into the look as she could. However, seeing the bulge that would one day be a sweet girl made being annoyed with Bianca just slightly difficult and her fingers itched to reach out and pat the belly._

"_I am not lost," Maggie insisted, focusing her eyes on the road and ignoring Bianca's amused snort. "I simply can't yet find what I'm looking for. Maggie Stone doesn't get lost, not on a trip like this and, believe me Mommy, I'd never get lost with a baby on board."_

_Another snort, this one paired with a blush and Bianca again found her hands smoothing across her stomach, and loving the movement that answered her touch, a rolling movement within her of life and it brought an almost dopey grin to her face. Maggie really really loved that almost dopey grin of hers._

_Pregnancy suited Bianca Montgomery and Maggie found herself enjoying it, even when she had been awakened in the morning by Bianca yakking and staggering to hold her hair while she enjoyed that lovely not-so-morning morning sickness. It was extremely strange to be feeling so damn lovey-dovey for Bianca when she was puking her guts out._

_Thankfully, the morning sickness was fading away and it had yet to rear its ugly head again. Maggie turned again, searching for the building, wherever it was, and her sharp eyes finally fell on the massive shape looming in the distance and she gave a triumphant albeit childish "hah!", coasting into the large parking lot._

"_I still don't get why you got so excited about a clearance sale," Bianca murmured, brushing hair from her face as she watched Maggie coast through the lot, searching for the empty parking space she knew was there, waiting for her and her precious cargo. "We can go shopping all the time… and this mall is so far away."_

"_Yeah… but it's a baby clearance sale!" She turned the car again, grinning excitedly and having an insane urge to bounce in the driver's seat at just the thought of a clearance sale for baby stuff. "All those baby clothes and stuff and items just waiting for us to grab up! We have to get these things for the baby because she wants them!"_

"_Maggie, shopping should not include you running gaily through a baby store, throwing rattles and bottles into a basket and then go running back and forth between me and the shelves, holding up pink dresses against my stomach and giving commentary on how my daughter will no doubt have my eyes and how she'll look so adorable in purple!"_

"_You know you love it," Maggie snickered and was awarded by another blush, this one deeper and Maggie felt immensely proud of herself and her ability to make Bianca beam like that. "Besides, our girl here is gonna need all the clothes she can get, right? After all, she's a Kane right, and we all know how many clothes a Kane woman needs. Even you," she added with a slight laugh and got a playful huff in response._

"_I do not get nearly as obsessive over my clothes as the rest of my female family… I mean, have you seen Kendal with her shoes? She goes running around, rubbing her heels and whispering 'My precious, my precious, my precious' in this weird little whisper and stroking them in this way that makes Ryan's eye twitch erratically."_

_Thankfully, Maggie finally pulled into a parking space, cutting the ignition and observing Bianca with a wicked grin. "I've seen you sitting in front of your closet and stroking that new top I brought you… you were whispering to it like it was some precious item and, let me tell you, Kendall probably doesn't have anything on you."_

_Bianca snorted, watching in amusement as Maggie got out of the car, closing the door and walking around the car to open her door and kneel, grinning even more as her eyes danced with amusement. "Are you seriously telling me that you don't enjoy my spoiling?" Bianca just stared and Maggie chuckled, cocking an eyebrow._

"_See?" Maggie laughed, "You love my spoiling and we both know that our girl here is having a ball where she is, probably pulling a Homer in there…"_

"_I'm sorry… what!"_

"_Come on, a Homer?" At Bianca's blank look, Maggie resisted the urge to roll her eyes, reaching out to smooth a hand across the stomach. "You know, that episode when Homer's in the womb and he's doing a little swimming dance and there's that music playing and he looks so happy and settled?"_

"_You're a disturbed woman," Bianca laughed but when Maggie took her hand and helped her up, she didn't fight, straightening beside Maggie and watching the shorter woman lock the car and then turn back, carrying Bianca's purse like some loyal male who had been dragged through shopping hell._

"_Come on, we have outfits for the baby to try on," Maggie giggled and started dragging Bianca towards the mall happily, almost skipping herself and enjoying how easy it was, once again, to make her bets friend grin like that._

* * *

Maggie realized half-way to the Martin home that she had no idea where Dixie Martin was and found herself dazed by the sudden jolt of awareness, something that made her feel stupid and rather idiotic, and she regretted her burst of giddy excitement. Amy had fiddled with the radio for a good fifteen minutes before finally settling on a Mix station.

Amy was a known music nut, at least to Maggie, and she could spend an hour listening to old opera and then switch to Johnny Cash and spend an hour shaking her head to classic metal before switching over to something else. Eclectic, thy name was Amy 'Aimless' Cohen. Now, with a huge grin, she started rocking her shoulders in tune to the tune that began to play through Maggie's car.

It was a strong sound and Maggie glanced at the radio for a moment before looking out the window and studying the slowly passing world outside the glass. She suddenly hated the damn song and her fingers, gripping the steering wheel, itched to change the channel but Amy was enjoying herself and who said that Amy deserved to be as miserable as she was?

_Come up to meet you  
Tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are  
I had to find you  
Tell you I need you  
Tell you I set you apart  
Tell me your secrets  
And ask me your questions  
Oh let's go back to the start  
Running in circles  
Coming in tails  
Heads on a science apart_

She squirmed in her seat, turning and considering ways to get a hold of the newly re-living Dixie Cooney. She paused, frowned, and wondered if Amy had somehow made a mistake… wouldn't the Cortlandts and the Martins already be running through town, throwing confetti and singing in helium voices?

The thought of Tad Martin swaying in a barbershop trio with Adam Chandler and David, all three singing in high pitched voices was utterly absurd but she wasn't able to stop the smile that it caused and she bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the erase the ridiculous but wonderful mental image.

At her side, Amy was nicely settled, nodding her head to the music, not knowing the words and for that Maggie was a little bit grateful. Amy, at her best, sounded like an albatross being strangled while being drowned. At her worst, she made the roots of Maggie's molars ache.

She simply could not sing and the fact that she had decided not to try was wonderful for Maggie. At least she could trust Amy not to make everything even worse than it was now…

_Nobody said it was easy  
It's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be this hard  
Oh take me back to the start_

But it didn't change the fact that she had no idea where to find Dixie Cooney but had some idea of where she was. There was no way that JR Chandler, right now grieving for both 'Bess' and his son, would simply let his mother, who he had, according to what Maggie could piece together, apparently tracked her down in Switzerland, go running around town without mounted artillery with her.

It should have made her head spin, shouldn't it? Dixie Cooney shows up, right at the same time as Amy; glides into town within the same month? It was almost too much and yet, here she was, easily absorbing all of this with a shocking amount of grace and skill, and it was no doubt due to the fact that she had spent the last few years in Pine Valley, AKA, Lazarus central.

And here she was, running, or at least, driving around town, wondering how to track down a woman who, just a few days ago, had been dead and constantly being mourned and, hey, she's not actually dead anyway… Maggie wondered why people in Pine Valley even held funerals anyway… after all, nobody really died clearly, except for Frankie and how fucked up was that anyway?

_I was just guessing  
At numbers and figures  
Pulling the puzzles apart  
Questions of science  
Science and progress  
Do not speak as loud as my heart  
Tell me you love me  
Come back and haunt me  
Oh and I rush to the start  
Running in circles  
Chasing tails  
Coming back as we are_

Wait… Maggie turned in her seat the smallest bit, glanced out the back and then turned back to the wheel, gripping it hard and considering. Okay, so she couldn't find Dixie and didn't like the idea of confronting JR just to see her and ask her about Del Henry. While she did feel sorry for him, she highly doubted he'd believe any condolences she offered, no matter how honest they were.

Frowning, she contemplated this new idea, nodding to herself a few times before performing a U-turn and increasing speed, skirting around a smaller car and settling back as she tried to ignore the way the idea made her heartrate kick up a notch or so. Besides, what if she was still going to ignore her like she was the last few… well, year or so?

Okay, fine, the dry period of their friendship wasn't exactly a year long. More like nearly a year or so… All Maggie knew was that the only safe place she'd had in her life, the only thing that she had at least partially trusted in her life had dumped her like a broken pump, and run off to play protector to Saint Babe of the Blonde Bitch Nation.

Bianca had stopped the worship when it had been revealed that Babe had been playing mommy to the wrong baby fgor months and known about it. Still, it still felt like there was a blonde presence in the room and it was making it difficult for Maggie to give Bianca anything other than a chilly shoulder.

_Nobody said it was easy  
Oh it's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be so hard  
I'm going back to the start_

She understood what had set Kendall off so badly that she'd get into a fight like that with Bianca. Maggie didn't know exactly what it was but she'd seen the Kendall and JR friendhsip once or twice and, while she thought the idea of the two them strating boinking anytime soon was a bit on the 'ick' side, she knew loyalty when she saw it.

And she knew that something had happened between Miranda being given to Bianca in the hospital and the happy mommy and daughter going home a few days later. She didn't know what it was but had a bad idea of what it could be and she could all too easily it going down in her head and Kendall holding onto her friendship with JR like a rabid dog.

Friendship was something that Maggie understood, at least partially and, while she'd had very few good relationships in her young life, the one that constantly haunted her was the one she had abandoned because she was too much a coward to put up for one day what Frankie had dealt with for years.

She knew, all too well, how difficult it had been to be loyal to Bianca through all of the hell lately and she knew, at least on some level, what was straining Kendall so badly. She could remember all too well walking in on that fight between Bianca and Kendall about what had happened in Vegas, the all too brilliant plan to see if JR trusted Babe.

For some reason, Maggie got the idea that that plan, whether or not Bianca had thought it up, was inanely stupid. You test your husband's trust for you by making him think you're cheating on him with the girl you share weird vibes with? And, of course, you know he'll trust you because you've been so loyal in the marriage before all this, right?

She'd never admit it, especially not to Bianca, not even now, but she'd been cheering JR's dark side on most of the time and had been, sometimes, insanely grateful that she was not the only one to see through Babe's lies and pretty smiles. God knew Jamie was the lapdog… as always, the thought of her former roomate brought up a silent ache, and she had a fleeting moment of wondering what he was doing with Babe and Krystal out there.

Thankfully, Amy was there to get her mind and heart out of the ditch, asking curiously, "Where are we going now?"

"To Bianca's… we need to tell her about everything and see what she thinks about this all."

"Why?" Amy asked in bafflement and Maggie's only answer was a slightly confused shrug of slim shoulders.

_

* * *

Nova Scotia…_

Ken stared nervously at the other man who sat across from him, beer at his side, studying him with sharp dark eyes and with his bare feet up on the table in front of him. There was a careful blankness in his gaze that was too empty and Ken fiddled with his tie again, annoyed at how well the intensity was freaking him out.

He was Lavery's brother, one of the three and he had always gotten the idea that this was the only one who at all cared about the redhead. Now, he had no doubt. Her house was shockingly bare of anything personal, nothing like pictures of keepsakes to decorate the walls and tables and Ken had found himself the smallest bit chilled by the emptiness in the house.

The only picture, anywhere, was on the table next to the couch, beside the phone, an older picture of her and her brother, when her hair had been longer and before he had come to the company and he was only barely able to keep from grabbing it up and huddling with it, escape out of this shockingly empty place.

When his cellphone went off, the other man, Jonthon, his name was Jonathon, gave him a look that a cat would have given a canaray, throwing off casually, "I have to take this call. It's my girlfriend." He stood and Ken leaned away as he passed, pressing himself deeper into the chair and not relaxing until the male was out of sight.

* * *

Usually, Maggie's calls, which he had received at least twice a day since getting to his sister's place caused him great joy. Now, however, his focus was on the slimey bastard out there that had been giving his little sister enough attetion to last a lifetime. Erin had never gone around and bragged about her sexual decisions and god knows there was just enough of the little left to get ill at the thought of his little sister getting it on with anyone, much less like _that_…

Still, he had learned that she was one of the most responsble women in the world and had learned it early on. And, while she could flirt with the best of them, she didn't like people like Ken; they tended to make her hiss and blow fire, not to mention ever so elegantly do something to their nether regions that would make it difficult for them to breed.

And he knew, without a doubt, that he violently hated that slimy bastard.

Maggie had been talking for a few minutes before he realized that he wasn't listening all that well and he gave her more of his focus, stepping forward to lean agaiunst the door and watch the slimey bastard sit there and cower, not quite realizing why he was so freaked out by Jonathon.

Jonathon was used to freaking people out and he had learned that he could use it and he had, many times in the past few years because his survival intincts were honed by nightmares and hell, and were nearly as strong as Erin's, which were pretty damn magnificent really.

"Jonathon?"

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm just having a bad day. There's this guy from Erin's work here and I don't like him…" He watched, and then straightened when he spotted Erin coming down and Ken's slimy bastard kind of reation, a smoothness coming over as he stood and welcomed her a seat at his side.

She took a seat opposite him, noticing her brother and snatching the folders from where Ken had set them when he had entered. "Sorry… I just really don't like this guy… have you ever met anyone so slimey you just… you just hate them immediately?"

She sounded edgy when he answered and he noted it absently, narrowing his eyes as he watched the attempts by Ken to get his hands near her legs, leaning forward and closer every few seconds until Erin finally snapped and stood, circling around to put the couch between the two of the. "You have no idea, Jonathon."

"Are you okay? You sound a little bit pissed."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're stupid enough to think that talking to a worshipper of a cult can do some good. It's like talking to a wall, Jonathon, I swear to God and I don't even know why I even tried, seriously."

"Who are you talking about?"

A long silence before Maggie's voice came back and he recognized the quality there all too well from hearing it. Bianca… Bianca Montgomery. Every time she came home from trying to deal with the Kane ended in her voice getting that odd and slightly hollow tinge to it that made him want to tell Bianca off for good.

He listened silently as Maggie explained how an attempt to get some kind of talk going between Bianca and someone else had ended in a battle between her and the brunette and he physically winced when Maggie brought up the B-word, which, as always these days, came up in conversation.

It made no sense to Jonathon why Bianca Montgomery continued to act the way she didn, why she had gone out of her way to get the Chandler patriarch to stop his manhunt of the blonde baby-swapper who had so hurt Maggie and everyone that Bianca 'said' she loved… clearly, she didn't know the meaning of the word.

At the end, her voice was defeated and he closed his eyes at the emptiness that he knew was on her face when she asked him, very softly, "We can go right? We can go to the casino with Amy and have a night out?"

"Of course," he murmured, nodding to himself. "We can go out and you can have some fun with Amy. I think you need it huh?"

"Yeah…" She paused and he listened to muffled words with another female, no doubt Amy… Amy, who had kicked so badly he was still sore even with the marks fading. "It's a date then. You, me and Ames, not having to worry about anyone else but us… Boy, does that sound good."

"Go shopping, find something you like… I'll be home tomorrow morning, and we can have a few hours before we head over to the casino… be carefuly okay?" He waited for her reply and nodded and then she ended the call and he put the cell down, stepping out of the kitchen and once again scaring Ken so badly he went a few shades paler.

At least did that well…


	13. Chapter Twelve

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Twelve_

_Amy frowned, studying the nail in the light, file on the desk before her as she inspected the nail. Sighing, she picked up the file, shaking her head and went back to her diligent work, filing away the edges of the break with the tip of her tongue between her teeth. Damn, damn, damn…_

_With eyes narrowed and spine stiff, she focused all the strength in her gaze on her nail, leaning back in her chair and crossing her long legs, breathing as quietly as she could in some attempt to really get this done right. She rarely broke a nail but when she did, she tended to get extremely pissy of it._

"_Stop that… anyway, I forbid you to be pissy." _

"Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa… you forbid me?"

_She shook herself out of memory, forcefully, finding it difficult but managing to push them back and hide them away, happy memories of Maggie that were hidden with the smell of her mother's cookies every Christmas and her voice as she read to her every night…_

_She once again focused completely on the nail, something that didn't hurt as much as memories that had been building for so long only to be suddenly shredded by that shape running off to never be seen or heard from again. And, of course, she'd never forget how her heart had lurched when she'd caught sight of the photo splashed across the cheap tabloid in the Texas convenience store._

_How, for a moment or so she had felt that chill of terror as she studied the photos of the petite blonde and recognized her despite how she had grown just a little bit more into her grace, just a little bit more into that hidden strength that she so believed she didn't have in the first place._

_But it hadn't been Maggie, not Maggie, not her Maggie with the crooked grin and the eyes that looked so closed off unless you knew where to look. No, it had been Frankie and she'd never forget the momentary flicker of absolute gladness that it was Frankie, Frankie and not Maggie who was decorating those pages, being splattered across the paper as "Kane Daughter's Lesbian Lover Found Dead."_

_For a moment, she'd been glad that it was Frankie on those pages and not Maggie because what was she to do with the knowledge that Maggie was no longer out there somewhere, that she had lost any chance of ever again getting to stay up all night watching TV and bickering about exactly why cats beat out dogs as the best pet._

_Amy would never get that moment of emotion out of herself and it returned to her at the strangest times, such as when she was filing her nail… such as now…_

"_Please tell me that Micaela Kincaide is still in there."_

_Snapped out of her recollections like a rubber band, Amy leaped forward, slamming her hip painfully into the desk as she tossed her file away and attempted to settle her outfit into some semblance of order and then stopped, blinking at the redhead who stood before her like some autumn goddess._

_Whoa…_

_With her mind already out of sorts, the sight of the female who she was staring at her was way too much and she fiddled with the hem of her skirt nervously, clearing her throat out once or twice and forcing her gaze down to the desk in front of her for a moment and shuffling papers like she was being useful._

_When she finally looked up, she found the redhead regarding her with the slightest touch of a smirk twisting her lips and her eyes glittering the smallest bit in silent amusement. She really was a pretty thing, red hair falling around her face to brush her shoulders and holding a file box effortlessly in her arms._

_She was very pretty and Amy noticed and, to Amy's chagrin, the redhead noticed and seemed to appreciate the fact that Amy had noticed. The fact that this mental thought did not completely confuse her was proof of how dazed Amy Cohen had suddenly found herself and she cleared her throat again, staring at the woman who stared right back with that slight smirk on her face._

"_Yep." Boy, wasn't she just one of them flawless women of the nineties… or, wait, it wasn't the nineties… crap… "I mean, yeah, yeah, Micaela's still in there… ahem… yeah, she's right in there." She was surprisingly calm, at least when it came to her voice and the woman opposite her grinned slightly, moving forward to set the box on her desk._

_Amy accepted the hand that was offered and found to her delight that it was warm and strong, gripping hers with a refreshingly firm softness that made her palm tingle the smallest bit. "I'm her secretary, Amy, Amy Cohen… you would be the girl from Chandler Industries?"_

_A laugh as she nodded, making red hair shift slightly. "I'm your girl. I'm here with business between Chandler Industries and Micaela's whatever-it-is… Here, you can call me Erin—" She stopped suddenly, eyes narrowing as she saw the nail that Amy had previously been so obsessive about. Turning the hand she still held, 'Erin' lifted an eyebrow, offering an amused glance to Amy. "My nails break faster than they grow, it's not even funny, believe me."_

"_Uh… yeah…" Feeling awkward and squirming under the gaze, Amy cautiously twisted her hand from the other woman's grip, lacing her fingers together and holding them in front of her stomach, offering the redhead a slight smile. "Um, aren't you late to that meeting with Micaela—I mean, Ms. Kincaide?"_

"_Ugh." She wrinkled her nose, lifting up the box again and setting it against her hip, flashing the brunette a broad grin and a quiet laugh. "Too true… pleasure to meet you though." Another, even broader grin, a more intense sparkle in her eyes and she chuckled, louder this time, studying Amy with half-closed eyes. "Work beckons…"_

_And then she was gone, slinking away past Amy's desk and into Micaela's office and Amy bit her lip, staring down at her hands. Not Maggie, not even close but there was a glint in her gaze that brought to mind long nights of whispering what they were almost too afraid to speak out loud._

_But she wasn't Maggie… not even close…_

* * *

Maggie had made Amy uncomfortable and she regretted it intensely, regretted not letting Amy simply leave Bianca's place while they hashed it out. Twice, Bianca had snapped for Amy to get out and give them privacy and both times Amy had been only too happy to comply, spinning and bolting for the door until Maggie insisted that she stay.

She violently hated that she had used Amy like some human buffer between Bianca and herself. It had been okay for a few minutes and they had managed to stay on neutral territory, both Bianca and Maggie carefully working to keep themselves and their emotions in check so they could at least talk.

Maggie had forced herself to be okay, even while Bianca had insisted that Maggie stay away from JR and the Chandlers. She had no right, not really, to tell Maggie to stay away from the Chandler family but she'd forced back the flicker of anger, swallowed it back and attempted a different route to get Bianca to somehow help her get in touch with the newly alive Dixie Cooney.

And Bianca had spit in her face.

She's stood there with Miranda balanced on one hip and brought up Babe Carey, flung Babe's name into the conversation that Maggie had been fighting so hard to keep herself calm for. It had been like a slap in the face, Bianca telling Maggie not to even mention Babe's name to any of the Chandlers because the poor little blonde needed her peace now, away from the hell of the Chandlers and their viciousness.

Maggie couldn't quite remember ever being hit by a few words like that, had never been struck so hard by a sentence and she'd simply stood dazed and stunned for a moment or so, staring at Bianca, watching with wide eyes as she set Miranda down to play and turned back to Maggie, lips pursed and cheeks flushed with anger at just the idea of evil, heartless Maggie going after poor, innocent Babe.

Only Bianca could say something like that and make it hurt so badly that she wasn't able to breathe for a few moments…

_Babe…_ Maggie slammed the bottle of water down on the kitchen counter, clawing the inside of the cabinet just above, hands scrambling for the bottle of Tylenol that Jonathon kept up there, and she yanked it down, finger tearing at the lid and finally managing to get it open.

Dropping the bottle to the side and not giving a flying fuck about the few pills that skittered across the counter and into the sink, she popped two into her mouth, twisting open the bottle of water and chugging down about a half of it in just a few swallows and then choking for a moment or so, coughing and pounding her chest to loosen up the knot.

Even after the water went down, the knot remained, a painful weight where there had once been a kind of light and wonderful something that she'd been too afraid of and too intimidated by to name and she kept her hand over her heart for a moment, biting her lip as she stood there, fighting back the stinging pain in her eyes and the clog in her throat.

Shaking her head and chugging down more of the water, she forced it all back, something she had become all too good at in the last months. It was all she had done for so many months while she'd thought Miranda was at the bottom of some river and that she'd never even get the chance to see Bianca hold that one thing she wanted so much and so desperately, the one she'd wanted so much and so desperately for Bianca to get to have.

That's all she had done, forced it all back with all the strength she had, beat it back with even more desperation than she'd had when she'd first realized that Frankie would never know how much she loved her. Frankie had died, she had died with a hole in her and a piece of metal stuck in her and she'd died thinking her big sister didn't even love her.

_Frankie and Miranda… Miranda and Frankie…_ Maggie shuddered, gripping the water bottle and shook herself hard, attempting to knock away the loose thoughts that were just too painful, the ones she had learned the hard way to keep under control. How dare she, how dare Bianca tell her to just be okay with what Babe had done…!

She had stolen Miranda… no, fine, she hadn't started the lie but did that matter, really… she had learned the truth and instead of telling the truth, being a good person, she'd put the baby right back in JR's arms, patted her on the head and bounced her ass to lure Jamie away. Maggie didn't get it, not completely, what had made Babe suddenly decide that the lie was no longer worth it, what had suddenly inspired the conscience but Maggie really didn't give a fuck… not at all…

Nothing Babe did was because it was the right thing… everything she did, everything she planned and set up had revolved around her getting what she wanted… and Maggie knew, she knew, that her giving back Miranda hadn't been brought on by a sudden flood of love and kindness… no, the bitch had decided that Miranda wasn't useful anymore… she had dropped Miranda like she was nothing and left Bianca and JR to pick whatever pieces of themselves that were left after the lies.

Bianca was left with ten empty months and a million moments that she would never get back and JR had been left with no one but his father and his uncle at his back, with nothing but an empty nursery to grieve for…

It was like Miranda had been nothing, meant nothing and like nobody mattered but Babe and what she wanted and she was supposed to just sit back and let her go on with Jamie happy and carefree, never getting what she deserved… Miranda was _not_ nothing… she had never been just nothing and for her to treat Miranda like some little tool to twist the knife in deeper into JR…

Maggie was shaking, literally shaking as she stood there, staring and not seeing the apartment and she felt like she was burning, felt like she was going to break at any moment, like she was going to shatter into a million little pieces and Bianca didn't care, she didn't give any care to the fact that it wasn't just her who had lost Miranda…

She didn't get the only say in the matter, she hadn't been the only one to cry herself to sleep at night and cling to little frilly dresses and boxes of diapers that were never opened and she hadn't been the only to lose everything because of some bastard who had played god and some bitch who had decided that she wanted to keep JR and his money, to hell with anyone else…

No, she had apparently forgiven Babe and her and Kendall and everyone else who had grieved were just suppose to smile and nod and go along with it even though their world had been ripped apart too, even though they had grieved too, right along beside Bianca, for Bianca and for themselves and for all of what they had lost because of those two heartless wastes of space…

Maggie had been like this for hours, dropping off Amy and storming into the apartment with tears flooding and sobs being choked down with all the strength she had, and she had fallen into bed, and dozed, somehow, even though the anger and the pain had never ceased…

Her head was pounding and her hands were shaking and her back hurt from tossing and turning all night and everything felt wrong because Bianca didn't care. Had she ever cared, had she ever even seen Maggie and what Maggie had dreamed about… did she even care! No, no, she never had… clearly…

She knew, on some level, that needing Jonathon like she did right now was wrong, that there was something twisted and so, so wrong about it but it didn't change the fact that she needed to breathe and she needed him to help her breathe, needed him and what he could do to help her block out everything, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Maggie fought it back again, tossing the empty bottle down and clenching her hands, nails digging into her palms and panting, shaking, wishing that Jonathon would get back, wishing he'd get where she needed him right now… she needed him to help her, he had to help her deal with this, had to help her…

When the door opened, she couldn't have been more relieved and she spun, eyes falling on Jonathon and felt an almost insane amount of excitement. He wasn't Bianca, he wasn't soft or feminine or flawless and it was perfect and, even as a girl that had to be Erin slipped in behind him, Maggie was going for him, entire body tight as she flung her arms around his neck and arched into him, crushing herself against him, trying to no longer exist as other than some part of him…

She breathed heavily into his neck, shaking, and had an insane urge to simply collapse against him and scream and sob and beat at him until she was too exhausted to hurt any more. And he'd let her because he was no idiot. They both knew what this was, what it was that made them fall into bed together until neither could care about anything anymore.

It wasn't love, wasn't even close but this wasn't what was driving them together like that in the first place… love was what was making her so angry that Erin was there, that she couldn't get what she needed from him and love was what was making her want so much to just stop and finish because what was the point?

When she pulled away to regard Erin, eye the other woman, she looked just fine, was smiling and pleasant and she stood, arms crossed over her chest, chatting with the redhead and simply nodding and speaking, knowing what she was saying but not really hearing, only able to really focus on Jonathon and how easy it would be for him to make this all better.

She smiled, laughed when Jonathon handed Erin his keys and explained to Maggie that he had already set up a room for her at the Valley Inn… and then Erin was gone and Jonathon was walking her out, and she was standing, staring down at her feet, utterly fascinated by how her toes looked against the floor.

And then Jonathon was staring at her with an odd sort of understanding, and he stroked a finger down her cheek, and it was just enough. She closed her eyes for a few moments, gnawing her lip and then biting down harder as she pressed herself up closer, just needing something other than everything she was all tangled up in.

She had a half a day until she met up with Amy to get to the casino… Bianca would be at the casino, not caring about the fact that Babe needed to be punished and that Maggie needed her to be punished so that she could be okay… she crushed herself against him suddenly, and he reacted, touching her right back just like she wanted and she groaned, blocking out everything else and just concentrating on him.

Jonathon couldn't hurt her like Bianca was and she needed him now… and he gave her what she needed, just like he had promised he always would…


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Thirteen_

The best thing about being a close friend and secretary to Micaela Kincaide had to be how much time they could spend shopping and, while most of their purchases had to do with Micaela and her dainty little figure that could get away with everything, Amy would buy herself something once in a while.

Mr. Martin—Tad was his name, right?—was going to go to the grand opening too but he sat at the table upon getting home and simply gave her a dirty look, spotting the Oatmeal cookies that she had been devouring and the way that Ruth had been pouring her yet another glass of milk, fussing over her houseguest with an almost frightening excitement.

All the rest of her kids were away now, scattered all over and her grandson, James, was somewhere off. The older woman had gone oddly still when Amy had asked her where and she'd simply shaken her head, fiddling with kitchen utensils until Amy focused back on her food. Amy got the feeling that the woman was completely out of sorts, floundering in the aftermath of whatever it was that had apparently scattered what had remained of her family.

Tad, on the other hand, was proving to be the strangest person Amy had yet met in this town and, seeing as how that included a woman and little girl who had come back from the dead, that was saying something. From the first moment he had learned that she was the newest guest, he had regarded her with a childish annoyance, almost pouting as he watched Ruth fuss over her.

Apparently, he and the dead woman had married and divorced three times before she went over that cliff in Switzerland or, rather, had not gone over that cliff. In addition, he was at war with his stepson, who was upset that Tad had let his biological son get away with his ex-wife after everything he had done.

Considering the fact that the said ex-wife had keep a mother from a child and given that child to the man that she had cheated on with his brother only to flee with that brother and inform the ex-husband who was raising the kidnapped little girl that his child was dead and that the little girl he loved wasn't actually his through a letter…

Amy highly doubted that after all of the lies, she would have believed some letter…

She knew full well what Micaela would have thought of Babe Carey. Micaela was a firm believer that mothers were overrated and not needed and that any child could survive without one. Amy had wonderful memories with her mother and had never imagined that any mother could be cruel or heartless to her own child… not until she'd met Gwen and learned that bad parents came in both genders.

It had been a hell of a shock for her and she'd always remember how stunned she'd been, thrown full force the knowledge that not everybody got the kind of love they deserved. Even when Owen had taken her in, even when he'd started those attacks against her and any chink in her armor he could find, she'd had some kind of safety net, an older, stronger knowledge that her mother had always, always loved.

She'd gotten away from Owen okay, managed to escape him without any of the kind of inner sort of rotting that so many kids she had met who had come from similar homes she'd met had been touched with, the kind of inner hurt that Maggie and Frankie had always worked so hard to hide.

When Owen had told her that she was a worthless piece of garbage and meant nothing to anybody, she had known better and, no matter how much it would sting, she'd been able to get over it. When Gwen had said the same to Frankie or Maggie, they had always believed her and for that, Amy would never forgive her.

She'd given Maggie all the support and caring she could muster up, had continued to refuse to let Maggie push her away and Maggie had finally given in, letting the softer, sweeter girl satisfy some need that Gwen and her bottles had never even noticed needed to be filled. And Amy would never understand how she'd never been able to summon up the same amount of caring for Frankie… or, worse yet, she did and she really didn't want to think about that side of things.

Now, standing outside the door to the apartment that Maggie shared with Jonathon, she hesitated, considering and shuffling through things, older memories of watching Maggie crumble piece by piece at Gwen's words and then newer images of watching Maggie stand before Bianca Montgomery and crumble piece by piece by the words that Maggie seemed both hurt and stunned by.

Amy had nothing against Bianca Montgomery, not really and she had attempted to stay out of it and who said she had anything to do with everything that gone with Paul Cramer and Babe Carey and everything else that had exploded all at once? She wasn't a mother and doubted she'd ever meet some girl she'd settle down with like that but something about attacking a woman who had just recently gotten her baby back struck Amy as inhumanely nasty.

So the question remained, what was she going to do with Bianca Montgomery?

She gnawed a lip thoughtfully, staring down at her feet and scuffing a toe of her heel against the floor. Usually, she'd simply talk to herself and work through whatever was bothering her. She'd always talked to herself, even as a little girl and she remembered her mother doing the same thing as she kept up the house and worked and Amy was sure she had gotten it from her.

Now, though, she was hesitant to just talk to herself.

For years, her world had revolved around Maggie and somehow making sure that her closest friend and the girl she considered her sister got all the love and care and affection she could ever want or need and then some more to make up for Gwen's stupendous mothering techniques. It had been her purpose and her reason for existing and it had served her well.

Was this any different?

No, no… Maggie needed happiness, she deserved it after everything and, while Amy had nothing against Jonathon Lavery, she wasn't an idiot. Whatever they had was something that wasn't doing Maggie any good, wasn't giving her the kind of affection that she so desperately needed. There was no love between Jonathon and Maggie and so what was there to lose?

Amy sighed, tapping her bag against her thigh and deep in thought. From what she had been pulled into in Bianca's place, which was very nicely decorated by the way, she got the feeling that, as of right now, Bianca, no matter how sweet or amazing or loving she was usually, was not in the right state of mind to be shoved with Maggie.

The look in Maggie's eyes as she had finally fled had been silent and painful proof of that.

Amy would not be worrying about Bianca Montgomery. She sounded like a nice girl and all usually but as far as Amy was concerned, she needed a nice foot up the ass for her nastiness and again, it came down to Maggie and her happiness. Okay, something was settled at least, she thought with a beam of satisfaction, rolling her shoulders.

Right now, she would focus only on Maggie.

* * *

There was a tremor of fear just beneath her skin and she fought her way past it, having learned how to it at an all too early age. Now, slipping out of her car, Erin wrapped herself more tightly in her coat, hooking her keys to her belt and then watched the Laundromat, or what was left of it, with dark eyes.

It was a dump, a trashed old place with rats and roaches and other things that Erin wasn't afraid of, not after everything that had gone on before.

Erin licked her lips, closing her eyes for a moment and standing with her arms across her middle, the only human shape in the empty place, hating the emotion pumping through her veins like some fine and elegant drug, something that hit fast and lasted a long time and left you with far too much of an aftermath to deal with.

She took off, long legs strong as she moved, and she reached behind her, satisfying herself by checking the handle of the hammer she carried at her back, the only thing other than Jonathon that made her feel safe anymore. Jonathon would be furious when he found out that she had come out here along and she felt a momentary pang of guilt, that she didn't just call him right now.

But she had to see if he had, by some miracle, just been playing some cruel joke on her, some heartless game to see her fear take over and cloud her eyes. He always had liked that…

Pushing against the door, she immediately found herself overwhelmed by the smell, something heavy and strong that made her dart back out and clap one hand over her mouth, too-long sleeve of the green sweater she wore beneath her coat warming her chilled lips and the soft fabric an odd opposite of what she was feeling as her heart rate kicked up a notch.

When she finally slunk back in, heavy flashlight held in one hand, she was a bit more intimidated, more fearful but she went in anyway, stepping as silently as she could into the old place, grateful that she had switched from her heels to her sneakers when she had run back out to the car for the flashlight.

It was a mess, coated in dust and dirt and grime everywhere her eyes and the beam of light landed, dancing around before she got her hand to stop shaking and managed to really begin her explorations. And then, almost by accident, her eyes caught and held the streaks in the floor, caked up grime having been disturbed after what must have been years and she bit her lip, attempting to adjust the light spilling across it.

Streaks and footsteps that had disturbed the ground like that, kicking and playing with dirt and mess that had been untouched for so long that everything was almost forgotten, that everything was almost buried.

It was a throw-away thought, an odd bit of her subconscious poet/philosopher that she violently and hatefully despised, and she bit it back, taking off across the floor and knowing full well that Jonathon was too careful and too quiet after a life with Patrick Lavery to disturb anything like this.

Whoever had made this mess wasn't afraid of anything and if it was him that he really had no reason to be afraid, huh? He'd escaped once… he'd probably get to do it again right? It was a familiar train of thought and she barely entertained it, knowing that it wouldn't help to blame him after all these years but knowing that it wouldn't hurt either.

The washers and dryers that ran across and along two of the walls were ruined, the glass of their fronts cracked and shattered; in other cases, simply gone completely, most likely victims of teenagers who had longed for a fun dare and to spook a few of their best buddies.

Erin studied them, quickly lowering her light when she caught sight of the furry animal that had made up a nest in one of the smaller dryers, something that vaguely resembled a cat but was way too big for Erin to believe it was really a cat and she kept going, shaking her hair from her face and wishing she had something to tie it back with.

The door to the back offices had long since been taken down and lay in broken pieces before her and she was once again glad she wasn't going to be trying to climb over them in her heels, something she would have been doing if she hadn't caught sight of her trainers laying in her backseat, just waiting for her.

She stepped carefully through the pieces, threading into the back and had a sudden memory of when Jonathon had taken her to Halloween Horror Nights, years before and how happy she had been with the knowledge that she was really safe even when she had crazy people jumping out at her, screaming and waving cleavers. It had been a pleasant sort of fear, one of the happier moments after they had run away, gotten out and lived on the road, searching for some way to make sure he was never coming back.

This fear, staring into the hall where she could see several closed doors, was different, a jagged sort of terror that strangled her throat and made her light jump again, bouncing before she managed to stop the shaking. Bracing herself with any bravery she had, Erin forced herself forward, opening the door closest to her and finding it utterly shredded, empty of anything but trash.

The next door was the same and as she turned, she eyed the door at the end of the hall warily, taking a deep breath before forcing herself forward, slipping in and stopping to observe the inside of what had once been an office. The old desk, once massive and no doubt heavy, had been overturned and papers decorated every inch of the floor.

This was the room, she was sure of it and she quickly darted in, closing the door behind her and stalking through, searching for anything that Jonathon hadn't managed to clear out and she found, to her surprise and relief, that there was nothing left. She checked anyway, searching everywhere for any remains of his nasty little game and found none.

At least not until her eyes accidentally caught sight of the object sitting on a shelf between a box and an old bottle of Vodka… or, to judge by the lack of dust anywhere on the smooth glass, not that old a bottle. With her heart rate once again kicking up in an unsettling kind of way, she streaked across the room, yanking down the folded sheets and then biting her lip as she read her name across the top.

A few minutes later she was out of the old Laundromat, flinging herself into the car and locking the doors, entire body shaking as she shoved the key into the ignition and started the car, swinging out of the old lot and taking off, breath coming shallow as she worked to ignore his nasty little gift to her that lay in the seat beside her…

* * *

Jonathon was struggling with his black tie when he let her into the apartment and, if it wasn't so pathetic, she'd have laughed at the baffled look on his face as he struggled with it in the mirror, sighing as he studied her in the reflection in the glass, lifting his eyebrows slightly at her amused expression.

"Something funny about me fighting this thing for control?" he asked and she laughed slightly, shaking her head.

"No, no… it's just that I'm glad I don't have to worry about those things."

"Yeah, you should be…" He gave an explosive sigh, shaking his head and turning from the mirror, regarding the brunette with pleased eyes and a half-cocked grin, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe its fate… maybe I should go ahead and put on a leash, huh? It feels the same way anyway and I might get some extra attention."

Amy shrugged as well, biting back and a slight twinge of guilt. She ran fingers along her bag, studying him and finally asked where Maggie was, feeling both guilty and uncomfortable about seeing Maggie after everything that had gone on in Bianca Montgomery's so nicely decorated home.

"In there… she's just finishing up for tonight and doing all those double and triple checks and all those other things that women do before they go out."

She laughed, unable to help it and finally headed into the bedroom, immediately spotting Maggie in front of the mirror, fiddling with her earrings and mumbling to herself under her breath. She looked gorgeous and Amy grinned to herself, always loving to see Maggie dressed up and ready for something other than the closed off mode that Frankie had always hated her being in during their childhood.

One of the few things Frankie had said that Amy had ever agreed with.

Maggie glanced at her sideways, offering a half-hearted smile before going back to her earring battle, letting out a soft swear when an edge apparently caught her lobe. Rolling her eyes, Amy tossed her bag onto the bed, going to the mirror and slapping Maggie's hand away before she carved up her ear so badly she'd never be able to wear earrings again.

They were those hoops that Amy never liked so much but, like the loyal friend she was, she helped Maggie slip them on, biting her lip as she studied the scratch Maggie had left, not deep enough to break the skin but hard enough to leave a line of pale against Maggie's warm skin.

With a grin, she thought back to the night that Amy, in an angry hiss that rings had been created by male oppressors to take over and subjugate women. Maggie had completely lost it, falling back in the couch with tears streaming down her cheeks and gasping that Amy was being utterly ridiculous.

Turns out that Amy had been semi-wrong and that rings were actually some big time expression of love, stemming from the fact that the older civilizations had believed that a vein that came straight from the heart lied in the ring finger. What Frankie had laughingly referred to as her "psychotically feminist Rambo-ette stage" had finally passed and she had gotten over her violent ring hatred—she had even gone to see the movie and geez, was Liv a looker in those ears or what?

"What?"

Amy just shook her head, grinning slightly, fingering the hoop of gold and amused despite herself as the glitter of laughter in Maggie's gaze. "Could these hoops get any bigger, Maggie… you look like you could set them on fire and have tigers leap through…" she trailed off when her laughter finally broke, giggling as Maggie rolled her eyes, examining Amy's work.

"At least my hoops can't strangle me," Maggie cracked, jerking her chin and flicking Amy's dangling earrings with a crooked grin, chuckling as she dodged a smack from the brunette, darting around the bed to get away from the taller woman who now watched her with narrowed, laughing eyes.

"Stop that… you're not that funny and, by the way, I have not yet gotten a compliment about my dress." Amy cocked an eyebrow, waving at her figure with girly hand-movements, like one of those game show girls who show off stuff. "I mean, it's all new and never before worn…"

"You don't have enough boob for that thing," Maggie giggled and then gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth as her eyes widened in shock. Amy, for her part, let out a gasp of absolute surprise, jaw dropping at Maggie's audacity at mocking the fact that she'd never exactly been happy with her, ahem, chest area.

"Don't make fun of my tits, Maggie… you…" She stopped, flustered, grabbing for anything she could and finally managing to blurt out, "You short midget!"

There were a few minutes of their shocked silence and then an explosion of muffled giggles, Maggie hunching her shoulders and dropping her head, shaking in silent laughter. When it finally ended and they could look at each other without starting up again, Amy grinned, watching as Maggie, rubbing her ribs, started shoving her feet into her heels, dropping onto the bed to fasten them okay.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, I'm fine." When Maggie didn't get an answer, she looked up from her shoe-work, studying the odd look Amy wore, the one she remembered from when she would sneak into Amy's room at all hours of the night and refuse to talk about whatever it was that had driven her out of her home to begin with.

"Don't look at me like that, Ames. I'm fine, seriously, you just caught me and Bianca on a bad day and I dragged you right into it like some human shield—"

"Well," Amy began quickly, darting forward a few steps, "I mean, if you need me to act as human shield—"

But Maggie cut her off, standing and testing her weight on her heels a moment or so before offering Amy a grin, and this time it was a real one, not the fragile one she'd received when she'd slipped in a little while before. "Remember I said a while ago, about how Bianca and I aren't exactly as close as we used to be? I meant that and I don't want you worry about it, okay?"

"But—"

"No," Maggie said and her voice was strong, steely, and her eyes were the same as she stepped up closer to Amy, setting her hands on the brunette's shoulders and lifting an eyebrow. "You used to tell me that the past couldn't hurt me, that after I dealt with it, it wouldn't be able to hurt me and you were right. You were right and I have everything thing I could ever need or want now. You and Jonathon are my world; you two are all I'll ever need."

"Maggie—"

"I swear, okay… I've been whining and whimpering about everything for years and I have so much you know? I have you and I have Jonathon and, god know, David is still as psychotically over-protective as ever. Even more so, in fact so, hey, what do I have to complain about?"

Amy was silent, studying her oldest friend, the one person that had always been there when she needed to get away from Owen and his yelling. Maggie needed her and she didn't even see it, couldn't even see it and Amy swallowed, considering before nodding, agreeing that Maggie did, indeed, have everything she needed.

And when Maggie turned away from her to check her reflection, Amy uncrossed her fingers and let out a very soft, nervous breath, nodding to herself and knowing she had made the right decision… Maggie needed her now, and there was no longer any doubt in her mind, and she decided, with an odd sort of relief in the pit of her stomach, that the decision to move to Pine Valley was the best one she'd ever made.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Fourteen_

_The roof of Amy's house was easily accessible and when you had settled in the back, laid flat, to stare up at the stars, nobody could see you and it was you and it was your own little world with just the stars and the sky and the edge of winter that was freezing their fingers but who cared anyway when the night sky was that beautiful?_

_It was Maggie's haven._

_The stars were bright, shockingly bright, brilliant lights smattering the dark blue that stretched above her and she let out her breath in a quiet sigh, the hot air that she expelled blooming white for a few seconds before fading away… okay, so that edge of winter was actually more of a big old butcher knife but, still, who cared?_

"_This is like some clichéd chick flick."_

_Maggie looked over, her neck unhappy at the first movement in a half-hour and making its opinion known, but she ignored the ache, studying Amy's profile in the darkness. They had shut off all the lights in the house before climbing up and the only illumination came from the stars stretched over them and the sliver of silver that was the only presence of the moon._

_Amy looked as happy as she felt, head leaned back and eyes focused on the night sky. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, fingers laced over her stomach as she lay there, looking completely comfortable and secure in her own skin. She hadn't looked like that in months but here she was, finally, back to the way she was supposed to be._

"_Clichéd chick flicks can be good, right?"_

_Amy simply grinned in answer and it felt right after all the months of confusion. Everything felt right and Maggie studied Amy more intently, feeling stupid for how she had first reacted to Amy's nervous announcement in the middle of their meal, the tidbit she had blurted out while Maggie had sat there and gaped._

_Her reaction to that second little announcement hadn't been much better and she felt a hint of anger towards her twin at the remembrance of Frankie's face when she had blurted out just before Maggie joined Amy at the foot of the stairs that Cohen's feelings for her went above and beyond a little bit of friendship._

_Maggie loved her sister, she did but that had been too cruel, too heartless and, while she felt a knot of guilt in her stomach, she wasn't going to apologize to Frankie any time soon. Dealing with Amy and dealing with the fact that she suddenly didn't even want to be in the same room with her was more important than forgiving Frankie._

_That had been too cruel._

_But it was all okay now, finally, for the first time in months, things made sense and she was pathetically grateful for it, grateful that Amy wasn't going to push her into anything because she had a crush… on a girl… even though she was a girl… a crush on Maggie… who was a girl…_

_She looked away from Amy, went back to her intense study of the night sky, feeling the awkwardness come up again and hating it, hating that it was making everything so difficult. She wanted to run to Amy and get help with everything and, hey, would you look at that, Amy was the cause of her current confusion._

_She loved Amy, she just did and knew on some deep level that she always would, even when they were two little old ladies with too many cats and walkers and blue hair and that old people smell that can only be explained as an old people smell. Amy understood things that she didn't; was the only one who made things better than all she wanted to do was give in and wait for an end._

_But she didn't love Amy like that, right?_

_The confusion was mostly resolved, mostly but remnants of it were just that, little pieces of this strange ordeal that she knew would always be there, edges of this drama remaining when she had too many cats and blue hair and used a walker and complained to little kids that when she was their age… blah, blah…_

_Okay, so, clearly, things weren't completely resolved, huh?_

"_I'm sorry."_

_Maggie glanced over again, feeling a touch of sadness at the look Amy was giving her, the lilt of guilt in her closest friend's voice in the late fall air. Things didn't make sense, not anymore but the thought of Amy thinking there was something wrong with herself… it was the one certain thing left for Maggie and she got a hold of like a pit bull, planted her feet and settled herself in for whatever kind of jackass came around to insist that there ever was or ever had been anything wrong with Amy Cohen._

_There was nothing, nothing, wrong with Amy and she knew that as well as she knew that she was shorter than she should be and probably would always be short._

_Words couldn't say it, words weren't enough and after a moment or so of trying to find some Maggie gave up and did the only thing that made sense, lifting her hand from the roof to hold it up before Amy, a silent offer. The silence stretched, just them, the stars and the hand Maggie was offering, fingertips chilled._

_Amy's hand felt the same as it always had, feminine and soft, and she could feel the bones beneath her fingertips, feel the warmth of Amy's palm pressed against hers. Amy's fingertips were as cold as hers, frozen almost and she shifted her hand, effectively covering the chilled digits with hers._

_It was just a touch, just two hands slipping together but it was what Maggie had been looking for, searching for since Amy had run out of her house and Maggie had realized that Frankie's little joke had been anything but. Okay, Amy liked girls and Amy liked her and was that really such a bad thing?_

_No… because Amy was still the best thing in her life._

_They stared at each other for long moments, brown eyes meeting blue in the dim radiance on the night, stretched out on Amy's roof, cold and chilled and happier than they had been in months… Amy offered her another smile, softer and then laid her head back down, eyes closing as she relaxed all of herself except for her hand._

_A few moments later Maggie echoed her movements, leaning her head back and listening to the silence that Amy gave her, savoring it, a few happy moments before she left to go back home to take care of Mom and Amy started cleaning up after Owen, who had come home half-alert. They had listened to the crashes of the massive man in silence; his swears and curses as he hit doorways and tables, upsetting the house._

_It was a few moments with Amy, her Amy, who wanted nothing she was too afraid or intimidated by to give or even admit to and she closed her eyes, blocking out the stars and the sliver of the moon, focusing on the sound of her breathing with Amy's and the way that the hand on Amy's was the only part still warm as the temperature continued to dip._

_Amy truly was the best thing in her life._

* * *

Bianca drummed her fingers along her bag, standing in silence, unaware of the conversation going on at her back between Myrtle and her mother. Myrtle had apparently found out about Erica's 'brush' with madness and had not been amused, especially when she realized that it had been a typical Erica Kane plot to get her way.

In this instance, to get Kendall away from Zach Slater, who was apparently the spawn of Satan and Anti-Christ, at least according to her mother and Ryan, who had dived into the conversation to support Erica's view that Zach Slater was evil, period.

On some level, Bianca was aware of the fact that she wanted to slap him around a little bit.

Wasn't he married and, hey, where was Greenlee anyway? The petite business woman was nowhere to be found and she found with an edge of gratitude that David was nowhere to be seen. She didn't think she could stand the sight of him, godfather of her baby, asking about Miranda… the baby he had helped get back in her arms.

Bianca glanced back out at the inside of the casino, studying it and eyes falling on the shape of Kendall deep in talk with JR. Kendall had dragged him to the casino, insisting that he needed to get out for a night, away from his semi-amnesiac mother and everyone else who was trying to 'help' him.

For some reason, the sight of them sitting at the bar, talking, made her angry, made something hot and hateful rise up in her, wanting to strike out at Kendall for being like that. Kendall wasn't supposed to want to go to the memorial of his baby, wasn't supposed to be grieving with JR for his son.

Kendall wasn't supposed to…

People were waiting outside and she knew full well that Maggie was out there with Jonathon and Amy, waiting to get in for the big bash. Maggie, with Jonathon and Amy… Fingers dug into the beading of her bag, clenched the fabric up in anger and hurt and she bit the inside of her cheek, hoping it would ease the feelings that were gathering with JR so close.

He had his mother back though, his mother and his sister and he wasn't alone, not like she had been… who was he to ask to hold her daughter and say good-bye? The panic she had felt when Kendall had brought him to the hospital, asking Bianca to give him just a few more moments to let her go and say good-bye.

And, just like a cosmic joke, there had been Miranda, woken from her nap and on Anita's hip and Miranda… she'd screamed for an hour when Bianca had gotten him out of the room, breaking and not letting Kendall help JR and no matter how much she tried to soothe her, tried to comfort her, Miranda had refused to be sated until she had finally slipped into sleep from simply exhaustion.

Her daughter wanted JR, she wanted JR to love her and hold her because she knew him. Her mother was just a stranger, just some woman who cuddled her now. But JR… he'd held her and loved her and rocked her to sleep at night, woken her up in the morning…

Kendall wasn't supposed to care about JR or his son… that wasn't how it was supposed to be… nothing was how it was supposed to be…


	16. Chapter Fifteen

_**Stand By Me**_

_Chapter Fifteen_

Amy had gone to quite a few nightclubs with Micaela for a few girls' nights out and she had gone out a few times with a few of her attempts at romance, and, of course, that week long relationship that had ended so abruptly. However, she found to her own surprise that she had never gone out to a casino, at least not that could remember at the moment and she cocked her head thoughtfully.

She was aware of Maggie and Jonathon at her back and she worked to give them a few minutes alone, eyes focused on the people moving around, the crowds that were gathering, growing larger with every person that sauntered in, slipping past her and going on with their own night of fun with girlfriends, boyfriends, husbands and wives, away from the kids and other people who made you want to bang your head against a wall when all you wanted was a few minutes of necking in an elevator or sex in a stairwell.

Not that Amy had ever had sex in a stairwell…

Clearing her throat and hoping nobody noticed her blush in the not-too bright light, Amy jerked when a hand settled on her shoulder blade, turning to regard a grinning Maggie and immediately beaming back in response, worries about her stairwell sex forgotten in the giddiness of seeing that kind of grin on Maggie's face.

Dropping the hand from Amy's shoulder only long enough to give a full response to Jonathon's nuzzle of her neck, Maggie let him drag his hand out of hers, nodding once to Amy before melting away into the crowds, disappearing into the throngs of people milling around at the main entrance.

"Where's he going?"

Maggie simply shrugged, rolling shoulders around as she wrinkled her nose and grinned even more broadly, eyes bright and excited as she grabbed onto her friend's hand, lacing fingers with Amy's and shook it while the brunette burst out laughing at the sight of Mags going full-blown wild girl.

"Come on!" Without waiting for Amy's acquiesce, Maggie took off, almost yanking the taller girl off her feet. Stumbling the first few feet, Amy finally got herself balanced again and simply went with the flow, following Maggie as the shorter girl threaded their way through the crowds.

Okay, who said Maggie Stone was never up for a night of fun?

* * *

Maggie yanking Amy Cohen around like a rag doll would remain one of the most memorable things he'd ever seen. He watched for a moment or two until they disappeared before continuing his journey, working between people and digging his cell phone out as he did, checking the display and sighing quietly at Erin's number flashing angrily, probably matching her mood.

Finding himself something that remotely resembled a dark niche, Jonathon finally answered the call that had first been signaled to him by the vibration against his hip. Immediately, Erin's voice was there, stringing along as panicked words and babbling and he sought to make out her words.

And, after a few moments, he managed to calm her down enough to have her explain in a shaky but clear voice that she had done that very stupid thing that he had made her promise not to do… that was Erin Lavery for you, always doing the stupid thing because, hey, nobody told her what to do, right?

Still, if she had indeed found what she said she was holding in her hands, than he couldn't blame her panic at all, even if she had been the one stupid enough to go out there and do the stupid thing.

He did what he was supposed to do, soothing her and grateful for the fact that he could with her like this. As it was, he was only barely able to ease her panic, calm her enough to convince her to go to the Valley Inn and go to sleep, to rest and stop thinking about everything that was going wrong.

He considered her as he stared silently at the phone, knowing that she was going to do what he said and that she would call him if she needed him. Still… Jonathon swallowed, considering her nasty little find in the old place and knowing full well who had left it there.

It would be a good half-hour before he finally headed back to Maggie and Amy and found himself watching Amy with her jaw tight, considering what she meant and what all she could do… it was all up to Erin and he would do whatever she asked of him because she always knew best, no matter what.

* * *

By the time Erin trudged tiredly back to the Valley Inn, she was beyond wrecked, drained mentally and physically and she slipped into the room with a grimace, locking it and checking the lock before clicking on the lights and studying the room thoughtfully, noting with amusement the bathroom that Jonathon had picked out for her.

He was the only person in the world to know her obsession with bath salt and she noted with a bit of a grin that he had indeed stocked her up with quite a few packs. Leaving the bathroom, she shrugged out of her coat and then slipped the sweater off her head, tossing them both to the bed and observing herself in mirror, noting with a sigh the heavy bags beneath her eyes, dark shadows.

The jeans came off next, kicked away from her feet as she headed to the closet and got out the biggest shirt she could find, something with some cartoon character and yanked it on, not even changing or showering like she usually did, every night, at this time. Turning, shaking herself, Erin climbed into bed, yanking the covers up and burrowing into the bed, swallowing and leaving the light on as she fell asleep, ignoring the notes and pictures that he had left for her, black and white images of Amy without her even knowing that she was being watched.

And, if Erin had her way, Amy would never know how close he had gotten to her.

* * *

Bianca rarely drank but, standing and watching JR and Kendall bond like that was disturbing to say the least and she was now nursing a Cosmo, eying the Chandler with dark eyes and pursed lips, biting her tongue every time she caught the two leaning closer together to exchange more words.

Bastard… stole her daughter, stole her sister… destroyed Babe's life, destroyed her life… what, was Kendall the next one he was aiming the wrecking ball at?

With a grimace, she turned away forcefully, and then regretted it when she spotted Ryan regarding Kendall and JR with the same amount of fierce dislike that she felt. He had loosened his tie and was now draining a glass of something clearly strong, at least to judge by the wince when he tossed some of it back.

She felt for him, despite the fact that she didn't like him right now. She remembered how Kendall had responded to his marriage to Greenlee. She had watched her sister break, piece by piece and slowly crumble, give in to too much pain and too much betrayal. Yet, despite herself, here she was, feeling a little bit sympathetic for him.

His romance with Kendall had never been easy, never been simple and Bianca got that, on that some level. Every time she took a step towards Maggie, bam, Maggie ran the other way as quickly as her short legs could go until she decided to try something at which point it was Bianca's point to run the other way. It went like this and she sometimes thought that this would be their entire existence, until the day they died.

She could understand why he had decided to go the easy way out with Greenlee. It had never been love between them and they all knew that, even if it wasn't spoken out loud, because it was one of those things that you never said out loud, that was just how it was. Ryan loved Kendall, always had and always would and nothing would change that, not even Ryan deciding that he liked easy instead of better.

So, now, there was Ryan, watching Kendall and clearly wishing she'd get that divorce, get away from JR and hop on the back of his bike so they could go ride off into the sunset. She couldn't help it, she felt for him despite how much she hated him for what he had done to Kendall and used Greenlee to do it.

Hadn't she done the same thing… hadn't Maggie done the same thing…?

Was love supposed to be easy though? Wasn't it supposed to be hard, supposed to be something you fought for, something that you needed to earn on some level? Or, maybe she was wrong and love was evil, was something that ended in you always looking stupid and helpless and broken while she was over there, making out with some jerk and giggling about his hand on her thigh when that was where you wanted your hand… maybe love was a bitch…

Or, maybe, Bianca was just beginning to get hit with the alcohol.

Ryan got a refill, watching Kendall with pain that he was masking with anger, given away only by the slight crack in his gaze that showed just how hurt he was that she hadn't waited for him, that she had really thought that he didn't want her. But that was his fault; he'd told Kendall so long and so loudly that she meant nothing to him and she had finally given in to what she knew wasn't true, simply because it hurt too much to fight anymore.

Ryan was an idiot and Greenlee was finally realizing it too. It was why they were acting so flat around each other, why Greenlee was missing so much time at work to disappear and why Ryan was spending all his time staring at Kendall and glaring at Zach, Ethan, JR and every other man in Pine Valley that trailed after Kendall like she was the Pied Piper and they were the rats… especially JR… rat…

"Ms. Montgomery?"

Bianca jerked, jumping and then twisting to stare for a few minutes at the black woman who stood in front of her, who had blinked and then placed a hand on Bianca's bare arm, attempting to soothe the young woman who she had apparently just given a stroke to. "I'm sorry but I've been looking for you… I have some things to ask you about your sister."

She looked familiar and Bianca frowned, clearing her throat and rubbing her neck absently. Yes, she did look familiar and it was pissing Bianca off that she couldn't just figure it out. Thankfully, the older woman seemed to pick up the mix of irritation, curiosity and confusion on Bianca's young face. "I'm Edie, Mr. Slater's secretary?"

Oh, that explained why she looked familiar, huh?

Edie Harrison had proven to be the only person in Pine Valley that he truly trusted and seemed to do everything for him from ordering Thai food to organizing a planner to riding a unicycle while juggling razor-sharp cleavers… well, Bianca had yet to see the unicycle and cleavers but she had no doubt that Edie would go that far for her boss.

"What about Kendall?" Bianca murmured, taking another sip of her Cosmo and eying the strong-looking woman with a little bit of wariness, apparently fearing that Edie would be taking her blessed, sacred, much-needed alcohol… Edie resisted the urge to roll her eyes, glancing cautiously around to make sure that Zach wasn't around.

He was nowhere to be found and she had no doubt that he was hiding in his office, pouting over how Kendall didn't know about his feelings… yeah, jeez, why couldn't he act like grown man when it came to the whole heart area of human emotion? Still, Zach had been like that since before she had met him as "Alex, just Alex" in the streets of New Orleans. She'd been fifteen and she'd never left his side.

"Your sister, Mrs. Hart-Slater…?" When Bianca just stared, Edie bit the inside of her cheek, once again suffering through an insane urge to roll her eyes. Clearly, this poor girl, saint/heroine/innocent or not, was already being affected by the alcohol and Edie smoothed her hands down her thighs, contemplating the right words.

"I have some questions regarding your sister. Her likes, her dislikes… things that make her laugh and things that make her want to explode…" Edie paused, her lips twitching slightly and Bianca frowned again, lifting her eyebrows as she took another sip, swallowing it and thankful for the way everything was easing.

"Edie Harrison."

The whispered hiss made the secretary turn, jumping and then nodding respectfully when Myrtle sidled up besides her, eying Bianca for a moment or two like a mother cat before gazing at Edie with a slightly annoyed glint in her gaze. "What are you doing talking to Bianca, darling?"

A nervous glance at Bianca with shifty dark eyes before Edie leaned closer to the elderly woman. "I thought she might help us, Mrs. Fargate."

A very dainty, very elegant snort from Myrtle as she murmured absently, with a pat on Edie's hand, "Call me 'Myrtle', dear." The secretary sighed, but Myrtle silenced her with a snort hand movement, cutting off the woman and focusing Bianca with a shockingly intense look with narrowed eyes. "Have you seen Kendall tonight?"

Bianca just ogled them, realizing that this was how Greenlee and Kendall would look in sixty years… if Greenlee was a red-headed ex-carnie with a strong accent and if Kendall was a black woman who cowered at the look in the red-headed broad's eyes. She frowned and then looked down at the drink in her hand, realizing how many she had had and wondering if anyone had slipped anything in this one.

"Bianca!" The snappish order made her raise her gaze to regard Myrtle with an edge of real fear in her eyes. "Bianca, darling, have you seen Kendall tonight?" Bianca continued to stare and Edie leaned forward, whispering in Myrtle's ear. "I think she's a bit soft in the head, Mrs. Fargate."

The elderly woman sighed, raising her eyes to the ceiling of the casino in a silent prayer to find the strength to get through tonight with Edie at her side. "Bianca, darling, shake the booze out from between those pretty eyes of yours and tell me if you've seen Kendall yet—"

"Or the boss," Edie interjected, and was once again cut off by Myrtle, who swatted her back with her handbag.

Bianca, thankfully, realized that the sooner she ended this conversation, the sooner she could get a new Cosmo. "Kendall's over there with the rat," Bianca offered helpfully, gesturing to the Kane and Chandler talking together, quietly, bonding with him when she should be helping Bianca figure everything out because, damn it, that was a big sister's job.

Edie's eyebrows instantly rose in clear concern as she once again leaned closer to Myrtle. "They're close… do you think Junior over there's a danger to—" She stopped suddenly, casting the younger Kane daughter a side-ways glance of clear distrust. "Do you think we can trust 'Sex and the City' here?"

"Who?" Myrtle asked in confusion.

"Her!" Edie snapped, shaking a finger in Bianca's direction, who grimaced, looking around for a waiter to refill her glass or get her something stronger. "Do you think we can trust her with our… ahem, our plans?"

Bianca looked back, found both women staring at her intently, with identical looks of wariness and cautiousness before, with a sad sigh, Myrtle shook her head. "We can't… not yet… for all we know, she may just be on the weenie's side in all this…" Bianca looked around again, searching for any hot dogs and Edie smirked, wondering if Erica Kane was this funny when she had a couple of drinks.

"Come along," Myrtle ordered and they took off, arm in arm, with Bianca staring after them with wide eyes and deeply disturbed by what she thought she was seeing, Edie Harrison and Myrtle Fargate apparently planning something together that involved hot dogs, Zach and Kendall. Deeply, deeply disturbing.

She grabbed a waiter when he was passing, barked for another Cosmo and he went off to fetch it as she smoothed hands down her dress, picking at the fabric with her nails and then regretting having eyes when she caught sight of Maggie giggling excitedly as she and Amy went streaking past.

Snatching her drink as soon as it got close, she spun away from the sight and then yelped, her drink sloshing when she jumped in surprise; it splashed up onto her dress when her mother grabbed her by the arms, eyes wide and shaking Bianca like a rag doll. "You're supposed to be insane," Bianca managed to get out between shakes, absorbing her mother's clearly sane words.

Her mother didn't answer, simply grabbing her and taking off through the hotel, Bianca staggering and stumbling to keep up, long legs working overtime to keep up with her mother's full Kane-mode stride. "Why are we going?" she ground out, closing her eyes at the lurch of her stomach.

"To save your sister from Zach Slater by any means possible…" She stopped, not even moving when Bianca slammed into her. "…even if that means going through Myrtle and Zach's little cheerleader, that Edith woman!" This so stated with much dramatic flair, she took off again and Bianca rushed to keep up, simply because it was better than watching Maggie over there giggling with Amy like Bianca didn't matter at all.


End file.
